Ignition
by Selena Snow
Summary: Elizabeth Reynolds was hired to get two men out of their time up to date on how the world works, but what she got was much more than she bargained for. Now, she has to deal with two things on her back- a bullseye and a spotlight. Bucky/OC set after Infinity Wars.
1. Introduction

**Introduction**

All the chaos concerning Thanos was over. And of course, Tony Stark had to throw a party.

I'd spent about an hour on my makeup, and I was past caring at this point. My curly hair was out of my face, my heels weren't too uncomfortable, and my clutch was big enough to hold a notebook and pen, so that's really all that mattered.

I glanced into the mirror one more time before I left, but found myself rolling my eyes. I wasn't meant to stand out, all I had to do was take pictures and pray I'd get a few quotes from reliable primary sources. Camera strapped around my neck and clutch in hand, I walked out of my apartment and made my way downstairs. Within five minutes, I'd flagged down a taxi and was watching the city lights flash by.

Avengers Tower loomed in the distance, standing tall and bright over old banks and locally owned Chinese restaurants. I couldn't help the way the corner of my lips curved up in a smirk. The building exuded the cocky arrogance of its creator.

"Where do you want to be left off, miss?" the taxi driver asked gruffly.

"A block down from the Tower, please," I replied. I saw the relieved look in the taxi driver's eyes reflect through the mirror. No one is insane enough to drive a common taxi up to the front of Avengers Tower during a formal gala.

The taxi stopped abruptly, but I smiled as I paid the driver and got out. I made my way down the sidewalk, heels click-clacking on the concrete in an even rhythm. As I got closer, the familiar sounds of cameras flashing and newspeople giving their inevitably biased spiel felt like a comforting blanket on my nerves.

Chin held high in false confidence, I approached the throng of people. The words "pardon me, excuse me, coming through, sorry, pardon me!" fell out of my mouth with each bump and turn. Taking a deep breath, I finally found myself in front of a man in a suit.

"Name?" he asked.

"Elizabeth Reynolds," I replied.

He put a finger up to a device in his ear, then nodded. "You're at table nineteen, Miss Reynolds. Enjoy your evening."

"Thanks," I said, having to stop myself from accidentally saying "you too."

I made my way inside, keeping a closed lip smile on. It wouldn't do any good to look overly excited or completely bored, so I went for something in between. Pleasant, but neutral. As I looked around the ballroom, I saw a few faces that I recognized, mostly celebrities and a few well known politicians. Notably, there were none that had been in favor of the Sokovian Accords two years ago. Celebrities and politicians weren't my targets, though, so I kept looking.

A quote or two from Pepper Potts would be nice, but my research told me that she was in London at a conference. From what the tabloids said, Bruce Banner would probably be nice enough to entertain me for a few minutes, but I doubted he'd be easy to find in a high stress environment like this. I glanced over at the bar hoping to see Tony Stark grabbing a scotch, but no such luck.

I was beginning to wonder where I would even start when I saw a dark figure over by a column. He wasn't quite in the shadows, just hovering by the edge of them. His face showed calm, but the telltale twitching of his hands betrayed him. That's when I noticed it - one of the hands was metal.

It was times like these I wondered how the world had ever become this way. How it could be that I was currently looking at a former Hydra assassin, and a ninety five year old one at that. I glanced around the room again. With no other Avenger in sight, I'd better take the opportunity I was given.

I reached into my clutch as I made my way across the room, grabbing my notebook and pen. But as I got closer, I could see the way his eyes were constantly flickering all over the room. The word "paranoid" flitted through my mind, and I found myself tucking my notebook and pen away.

I replaced my neutral expression with a bright smile, although I knew it probably looked hesitant. "Excuse me, Sargent Barnes?"

Blue eyes flickered to acknowledge me, and I made sure I was still smiling.

After no response, I felt my false confidence already wavering. "I was wondering if I could get a few words from you about the attack? I understand this was your first time being a part of the Avengers team?"

His eyes were blank, but it almost seemed intentional. Like he was trying to keep in whatever he was thinking. I couldn't say that I wasn't doing the same thing.

My throat seemed to tighten as silence filled the space between us. "I-I'm not," I stuttered. "I'm not, I don't work for a news organization or anything. Online blog, er, website. We- ah, we focus on being factually correct. There are always so many biases in the world and it's hard to know who to believe so we-" I swallowed, finding it hard to keep talking under his intense stare. "We try to be a light in the darkness."

"We can always use more of that, can't we, Buck?"

I turned and saw Steve Rogers, a man technically my age, but his aged eyes showed otherwise. "Miss Reynolds, a pleasure to meet you. I get your articles in my...ah..." he trailed off awkwardly.

"Inbox?" I suggested.

His eyes brightened. "Yes! Yes, that."

I gave him an understanding look. "Still catching up on culture differences?"

He sighed, but put on a smile. "It seems like things change everyday."

"Modern society has a propensity toward being incredibly fast paced," I empathized. "Don't feel too bad about falling behind, it happens to all of us."

Captain Rogers smiled. "I doubt it happens to everyone else, but thanks. As I was saying, I enjoy reading your articles. Tony isn't as big of a fan, I think he doesn't like reading an honest reflection of himself," he rambled.

I found myself blushing. I knew exactly what article he was referring to.

"But anyways," Captain Rogers continued, "I'm glad you were able to make it tonight. If you need anything, let me know and I'll be glad to help, okay?"

"Thank you, I appreciate your offer," I smiled.

Captain Rogers smiled back at me before he glanced at Sargent Barnes. His eyes were inquisitive, bordering on concerned.

"Buck, would you want to go get a-"

"How come you put away your journal?"

I don't know what startled me more, the question or his voice. The question broke through the steadily rising awkwardness between the three of us, almost like a command, but his voice was strangely soft and timid.

"I-" I started, but couldn't think of how to put it. "I saw that you, well, I- I wanted to come tonight to get quotes about the attack, but you...you looked nervous and...I figured that writing down every word you said wouldn't help," I fumbled.

I was staring up at Sargent Barnes with a mixture of worry and hope. Worry that he'd still feel uncomfortable, hope that my confession would help ease his remaining tension. I could see Captain Rogers smiling slightly out of the corner of my eyes, but I focused on the man in front of me.

"What's your background, Miss Reynolds?" Captain Rogers asked curiously.

I took my eyes off Sargent Barnes to answer. "Dual bachelors degrees in Psychology and Media Journalism with a history minor. Why?"

The smile seemed to grow. "I might have a question for you later. At the moment, however, I'm going to get a drink- excuse me," he dismissed himself politely.

There was a moment of quiet before Sargent Barnes' voice cut through with a gentle, "You can take them back out now- your journal and pen."

I wasted no time opening up my clutch and grabbing the aforementioned tools, smiling excitedly all the while. After glancing around the room for a bit, I spotted an empty table nearby.

"Would you wanna take a seat?" I asked. Hesitation blossomed in his eyes, so I made another attempt. I found myself smiling awkwardly up at Sargent Barnes. "Table for two?"

A slight smile came on his lips, and he nodded. We made our way over to a table on the side of the ballroom, and I set down my things. The moment he sat down, I noticed the fidgeting begin again. It seemed to come back now that Steve was gone.

I took the lens cap off my camera and fiddled with the settings to account for the lighting change. "Sorry, give me a second..." I mumbled. "Are you okay with a few photos?" I asked.

Sargent Barnes made a split second face akin to the grumpy cat. "Sure."

I tried to hide my grin as I looked through the finder. I knew he wasn't going to be one to smile and pose for the camera, but that was fine. It wouldn't suit him anyways.

I snapped a few photos, taking note of how his awkward stares off into the distance came across as contemplative. After a few sneaky close ups of his folded hands, I clipped the lens cap back on and set the camera to the side.

"So...first of all, what do you want me to call you?" I asked as I flipped through my notebook for an empty page.

"...James," he replied softly.

I looked up and smiled at him. "Alright, James. Like I said, I understand that this was your first time being involved in the Avengers team-"

"I'd rather not be in the spotlight," he said abruptly.

An empathetic smile came onto my face. "That makes two of us. Now I don't really wanna focus on the attack itself, but before that. You were in cryostasis in Wakanda, correct?"

"Yes," he replied.

I tried to not smile at his short answer. I shouldn't have expected anything superfluous. "And your arm? Who reconstructed it?"

Sargent Barnes seemed to freeze. I noticed the way his bionic fingers tensed, like metal being stretched to its breaking point. I fought the urge to reach forward and place a reassuring hand on his. It wouldn't help him like it would most people.

"It...my arm was reconstructed by Tony Stark...it had been about a year since everything happened, and...Steve went to apologize because he knew that there wasn't anyone else who could fix me," he confessed.

Another smile came into my face. "It sounds like Steve is a very good friend, then."

Sargent Barnes let out a small laugh. "He's crazy, but yeah...yeah he is a good friend."

I wrote down a few more notes, then clicked my pen shut. "Anything you wanna add?" I asked.

Sargent Barnes paused, eyes staring out over the crowd. "Yeah, I apologize for not being as social as I should be."

I raised a curious eyebrow at this.

"Steve says that I tend to be...off putting," he explained. "Intimidating, sometimes."

"There's no need to apologize for who you are," I told him. "You went through a lot, you can't be expected to act like everyone else."

He shrugged. "I suppose...I don't mean to scare people, I think it just happens."

I mimicked his shrug. "You didn't scare me."

A small smile came onto his lips. "You don't seem the type to get scared easily."

A full laugh erupted from my lips at his comment. "I'll take that as a compliment, Sargent."

"James," he corrected lightly.

"Right, sorry," I apologized. At that moment, a waiter passed by with glasses of champagne, but we both declined. I gazed out at the crowd, watching people mingling, drinking, and laughing with glazed eyes.

"If it makes you feel better," I said after a moment of silence, "parties were never really my scene, either."

He gave me a curious look. "How could you tell?"

"The twitching," I commented casually. "I used to do that in big crowds, too. Or if I had to do a speech in one of my college courses."

He hummed, and I took that as an affirmation of my theory. After a few more minutes of people-watching, he stood suddenly from the table.

"Would you like to meet anyone else?" he offered. "I doubt you got enough information from me for your article."

I smiled, hearing the feelings of self deprecation behind his offer. "I'm sure I got plenty from our conversation, but sure!" After awkwardly scrambling to get all of my things together, I followed Sargent Barnes closely through the crowd, hoping I wouldn't lose him.

I suddenly found myself stopping abruptly at the edge of a conversation circle, one made up of Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, the Vision, and Wanda Maximoff.

Up close, the superheroes seemed almost...normal. Natasha had on a black dress with a nude lipstick I recognized from a recent Sephora ad. Bruce looked as though he'd dressed himself, if his slightly crooked tie didn't say that already. The Vision wore a black suit and his mechanical eyes somehow exuded warmth. Even Wanda, though her eyes were tinged with red, seemed completely normal in a petal pink off the shoulder gown.

I found myself suddenly overwhelmed, but this is where Sargent Barnes had stopped. He clearly thought it would be okay for me to be here and talk to them.

"This is Eliza Reynolds, writer for Esse Quam Videri," Sargent Barnes introduced.

Now their eyes all turned to me, and I felt even more nervous. I didn't even have the time to wonder how he knew the name of my website.

"She interviewed me already, but I imagine she didn't get enough," he continued. "I brought her over because I figured you all would be more...talkative."

"I can't imagine any Avenger other than Tony Stark would fit that qualification," the Vision answered succinctly.

I fought the urge to laugh. "You may have a point, but if Mr. Stark did all the talking, then it wouldn't be a balanced article," I replied honestly.

Miss Romanov quirked a smile. "She has a good point. Who do you want to grill first?" she asked.

I glanced around the group, and my eyes landed on the one person I knew would rather leave the party sooner than later. "Dr. Banner, would you care to join me? I like to talk with people away from all the noise."

Dr. Banner looked up at me and pushed his glasses up his nose before he wrung his hands once more. "Where, ah, where would you like to interview me?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly.

I smiled as gently as I could. "Just off to the side of the crowd. Sargent- I mean, James and I sat there earlier."

The doctor seemed to be okay with my answer, so he followed me back through the crowd to the table I'd recently vacated. And so went the night. First I chatted with Doctor Banner about his latest research, then with Miss Romanov about her side hobbies and favorite places in Manhattan. After that, I shared a table with the Vision and Wanda, seeing as how they'd both seemed uncomfortable with the idea of not being by each other's side. I didn't do so much talking as I did watching them talk, listening to her compare American culture to Sokovian culture and hearing his views on the fascinating details of humanity that he'd come to pick up on over his few years alive.

"Humans have a constant need for silence to be filled, for energy to be used. They feel that if it is not, then they have wasted precious time that cannot ever be accounted for again during their lifespan," Vision commented.

I hummed. "I may disagree with you on that one. Perhaps your view has been clouded because of the limited people you are around, but not all humans are like that. Some enjoy silence, and some are grateful for when they do not have to use as much energy as usual."

"Such as Sargent Barnes?" the Vision enquired.

"Yes, that'd be a good example," I agreed. "Most likely he learned to like silence because he doesn't always know what to say. As for energy, I'm sure he enjoys not feeling on mission all the time anymore, but he still does have his nervous twitches."

The Vision nodded. "Similar to Doctor Banner."

"Precisely!" I smiled. "Everyone has their little quirks."

I saw Wanda take this thought into account, watching as she stared down at the red strands of magic swirling around her fingertips. The Vision, however, just cocked his head and looked at me. "What is your quirk? I have not detected any physical abnormalities."

A smile came onto my face at his innocent but inquisitive comment. "Not all quirks are physical. I would say my quirk is that I'm too empathetic."

His head tilted again. "I do not understand…empathy. I know its definition, but…its true meaning escapes me."

"The true meaning of empathy escapes many people," I acknowledged, wracking my brain for an analogy that might make sense for him. "For me, it's like being hyperaware. Not of my surroundings or of a potential threat, but of people's emotions. I pick up on them and take them on as my own in an attempt to understand them."

"Hence why you did not conduct a proper interview with either Sargent Barnes or the Doctor," Vision concluded.

I wanted to laugh at his use of the word "proper," but I knew what he meant. "Correct. I knew that a serious interview would impede their ability to give honest answers and that a relaxed approach would work better."

"I sensed that in you," Wanda spoke softly. "You hurt because others hurt, but you do not try to ease their pain to ease your own…why?"

I found myself glancing across the room at James, who had resumed his space halfway in the shadows. "We all need help at some point in our lives. You guys help people by saving them from danger, I help people by telling them the truth and understanding themselves."

Wanda nodded at this, but I noticed that Vision's eyes seemed to contract.

They suddenly dilated back to normal. "The Captain would like to speak with you, Miss Reynolds," Vision informed me. "And he has company."


	2. Proposition

**Proposition**

 _I found myself glancing across the room at James, who had resumed his space halfway in the shadows. "We all need help at some point in our lives. You guys help people by saving them from danger, I help people by telling them the truth and understanding themselves."_

 _Wanda nodded at this, but I noticed that Vision's eyes seemed to contract._

 _They suddenly dilated back to normal. "The Captain would like to speak with you, Miss Reynolds," Vision informed me. "And he has company."_

A jolt of anxiety ran through my heart. The wording of his sentence didn't necessarily indicate a threat, but it wasn't a vote of confidence either. I vaguely recalled when Captain Rogers had asked for my credentials— but that was a casual inquiry, wasn't it? It was a twenty-questions sort of thing, a conversation filler.

It took me a moment, but I managed a smile and began collecting my things. When I stood up from the table, I could see what Vision was referring to. Captain Rogers was walking toward me with two people behind him; one was a nondescript man in a suit and the other was a man I recognized as Sam Wilson, the Falcon.

I smoothed out my dress and made sure my smile was in place. "Captain Rogers, nice to see you again. May I help you?"

A smile cringed onto his face. "Sorry, I know this probably looks bad. I just wanted to introduce you to my friends Sam-" he nodded, "and Phil Coulson."

I sized them up instantly. Sam Wilson looked sharp and in control in his charcoal grey suit and tie, while the man Captain Rogers said was Phil Coulson seemed to somehow ride the line between uptight and at ease incredibly well. At that moment, I felt like I had never been smaller in my life, even in heels.

I extended my hand to both men. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Sam smiled.

"A pleasure," Phil Coulson said neutrally.

Awkwardness was creeping up the back of my neck, and I fought the urge to spit out an excuse to leave. Multiple sets of eyes were on me, but I held onto my clutch tight to avoid twitching. Captain Rogers was smiling at me, but I could tell he felt bad for making me nervous with this situation.

"Miss Reynolds," Phil Coulson began, "my apologies for this. We've heard a lot about you, and, having watched you conduct interviews with a third of the Avengers, we would like to conduct our own interview with you."

"What for?" I replied calmly.

Sam chuckled. "Well, you seem good talking with everyone, and we ain't exactly a group of normal people. A few team members in particular could use some help."

I noticed Captain Rogers scratch the back of his head. "This is the point where I leave, isn't it?"

"Yes," Phil Coulson said.

Captain Rogers nodded awkwardly, gave me an apologetic look, and walked away.

A moment passed before Phil Coulson motioned to an empty table next to us. "Have a seat, Miss Reynolds."

I sat down slowly, taking time to let my eyes wander around the room. Sargent Barnes was still in view, as was everyone else I'd spoken to that evening. For some reason, though, his presence comforted me the most.

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought me back to the present. "There's no need to look for exits, Miss Reynolds."

"I like to keep my options open, Mr. Coulson." The words came out faster than I thought they would. I instantly regretted saying them, but Sam Wilson looked amused, so I figured I was in the clear.

"Look, I'll do the talking," Sam Wilson decided out loud. "Steve likes your website and what you guys publish. It's the reason you were invited. He struggles with everything remotely technologically related— except for your blog."

"You guys make things that are difficult to understand easy, and he likes that," Phil Coulson added on.

I smiled ruefully. "That's the goal."

Sam Wilson nodded. "Exactly. Like I was saying, some of the members on our team need help. Steve told me about your background— why the history minor?"

"It interests me," I shrugged. "I had enough space for it in my schedule, so I decided to add it onto my majors. Why?"

"Captain Rogers and Sargent Barnes aren't acclimating as well to this decade as we hoped," Phil Coulson revealed factually. "Rogers already trusts you, and Barnes will follow suit because of that. It wouldn't be a full time position— you'd come in once a week, bring them up to speed on what they missed out on, and help them understand society now."

I raised an eyebrow. "And why do you need me for this? There's gotta be a licensed therapist you guys could get a hold of."

"Listen, when I first met Steve, he was running around with a list of stuff he didn't know about," Sam laughed. "He wasn't even scratching the surface. As for therapists, we've tried that. All they wanna do is prescribe medicine these days. Our boys are old school, they wanna learn how to deal with it on their own."

My mind felt like it was reeling, but somehow it all made sense. Once a week history and culture lessons, basically. But where would I even begin? How much had they already been told about the past eighty years? Would learning about the past help them cope with the present? All of these questions rattled around in my head in an instant.

Phil Coulson's neutral voice cut through the mental noise. "I understand that you will need to think this over. Here's my card," he said as he slid a small piece of card stock over to me. "Contact me with your answer within a week."

I nodded my head before standing up. "Thank you for the opportunity. I will contact you as soon as I make up my mind."

As I walked away, I didn't feel as many eyes on me as I previously had. There was one gaze that was permanent, however. It was on the back of my head, pulling me back like a string. I stopped and turned— there he was, back by the pillars again. I smiled and gave a quick wave, not that I expected the former assassin to return either gesture. But, before I turned back to leave, I caught a glimpse of a slight smile.

Maybe I _could_ help him.

I laid in bed that night wondering what I had gotten myself into. First thing in the morning, I needed to type up my quotes and upload my photos to my computer. Then I needed to think about whether or not any of this was a good idea.

I turned over to one side and thought back to the gala. Captain Rogers may be in control on the battle field, but he certainly wasn't in a social setting. As for Sargent Barnes, well, staying in a back corner couldn't even be considered an attempt at socializing. He was going to be the more difficult one…that is, if I even decided to help them.

The more I thought about it, the easier it seemed. A general overview of the last century's history? No problem. Getting them up to speed on recent advances in technology? Might be a little trickier, but still shouldn't be difficult. Finally, I closed my eyes with the thought that, if I did accept, it wouldn't be _that_ difficult.

Oh if only I'd known.

* * *

Hello there! I don't typically do authors notes, so this will probably be the one and only. I just wanted to let you guys know that I will be updating regularly on Saturdays, so expect a chapter a week. Enjoy!


	3. Preparation Part 1

**Preparation Part 1**

 _The more I thought about it, the easier it seemed. A general overview of the last century's history? No problem. Getting them up to speed on recent advances in technology? Might be a little trickier, but still shouldn't be difficult. Finally, I closed my eyes with the thought that, if I did accept, it wouldn't be_ that _difficult._

 _Oh if only I'd known._

It had taken me the full week to finally make up my mind. After initially thinking it'd be easy, I made myself sit down and go through my old psychology and history textbooks. I reviewed everything from PTSD and asocial behaviors to the Cold War and the beginnings of the digital era. The more I refreshed my memory, the more I found myself in this weird balance of feeling equally prepared and equally intimidated.

And yet this entire time, I still hadn't called Mr. Coulson to let him know whether or not I accepted his offer. I kept tossing the idea around in the tumultuous ocean that was my head. It shouldn't be that difficult of a decision. It wasn't like I had to quit my job, I just had to make time to go the Avengers facility (wherever that was) on Saturdays. And then take the time to make lesson plans beforehand. And figure out how to talk with superheroes. And how to exist in the presence of superheroes without feeling small. And then make sure that all of this didn't skew my bias in my job.

Yeah, it wasn't a difficult decision at all.

After agonizing over it for my allotted seven days, I finally called the number on the card.

"A car will be at your apartment in twenty minutes," Mr. Coulson's voice intoned. "They will take you to the Avengers facility for an initial briefing."

I didn't stop to ask how he knew my address, but instead tapped my fingers against my desk and looked at the calendar on my wall. It was a good thing today was a national holiday, because usually Fridays were my busiest days at work. "Anything I need to bring?" I asked.

"Anything you think you'll need for your space," Mr. Coulson replied shortly. I nodded, wondering what this space could possibly be. "Nineteen minutes, Miss Reynolds."

I put down my phone and began to rush around my apartment to get ready. Thank goodness I'd already taken a shower and done my makeup, but I had no idea what I should wear. After a minute of staring blankly into my closet, I finally chose my favorite pair of jeans, a black tunic, and my grey keds. As I hopped around putting on my shoes, I grabbed an army green jacket and a mustard yellow scarf for good measure. It wasn't too cold outside, but layers would still be a good idea if we were going anywhere in the nearby area. With that thought in mind, I also grabbed a pair of gloves.

"Now what else do I need," I murmured as I looked around my room. I had ten more minutes, and my head felt like it was spinning. My eyes ran across the textbooks and notepads I'd pulled out, and I settled for those. I pulled out an old duffle bag and began to stuff them in, along with my laptop and charger. One water bottle, my favorite blanket, and a protein bar later, I was locking my apartment door behind me and running downstairs.

A large black vehicle was sitting in front of my apartment building, and a tall woman was tapping on an iPad in front of it. I approached awkwardly, hoping that this was the right car. Finally, the woman looked up. "Miss Reynolds?"

"Yes?" I replied warily.

A warm smile came onto her face, and I felt relieved. "My name is Maria Hill. I will be taking you to the Avengers facility today."

I nodded. "And where is the facility?"

An amused smile came onto Miss Hill's face. "An undisclosed location in Upstate New York. It's too far to drive there, so we will be taking a jet over. Should take about thirty minutes once we're in the air."

"Oh, uh, alright," I stammered. I suppose I should've thought about how we were getting to a top secret location. It wasn't as though the facility was somewhere obvious, and it wasn't likely that I'd be given an address.

With all the traffic, it took about forty minutes to get out of the inner city. A while later, we found ourselves arriving at a private airstrip where a lone mini jet was sat waiting on the tarmac. As I presumed, they checked my duffle bag and purse before I got on. It seemed like I'd just sat down when I heard the noise telling me to secure my seatbelt.

My mind was starting to reel again. I was on a private jet going to a top secret location on a Friday morning. This wasn't as casual as I'd imagined.

I spent most of the flight sitting in the cushioned chair and wondering how I would describe all of this for an article. Of course I couldn't do that, because, well, it would probably violate some sort of Avengers-Code-Of-Secrecy. Regardless of the obvious, it was an exercise that often helped me calm down, taking note of the exact shade of cream the seats were, the caramel stained wood accents, and the dizzying pattern in the grey carpet.

Before I knew it, I heard the wheels touch the ground, followed suit by the seatbelt noise. I threw my purse across my body and picked up my duffle bag to get off. I suppose that I expected another tarmac, but I was instead greeted with the sight of a large modern building surrounded by trees and lush green grass. The mini jet had landed on a patch of concrete about two hundred feet from the building, which instantly struck me as not the smartest idea, but I guess they know what they're doing.

"Miss Reynolds," Mr. Coulson greeted me as I descended the stairs. "Welcome to the Avengers Facility. Have a good flight?"

"I mean…it was unexpected, but yeah, it was fine," I replied with a shrug.

The first smile I'd seen him make appeared on his face. "My apologies. You'll understand the need for secrecy, I'm sure." After I nodded, he said, "Good. Follow me, we've got a lot of ground to cover."

My short legs were forced to speed walk to keep up with Mr. Coulson's pace. He called out locations as we passed them: training rooms, cafeteria, restrooms, laboratories. He must have seen my panicked face, because he quickly assured me that I'd be given a digital map of the grounds.

"We're entering the residential side of the building now— this is where the Earth's mightiest heroes are actual humans," Mr. Coulson told me.

"Well that's good to know," I commented lightly. "Why am I coming over here though?"

Mr. Coulson turned back to look at me. "This is where you'll be working."

Though I still felt confused, I nodded. He made a right turn into a long corridor and stopped at the third door on the left. "This is Captain Roger's room."

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. "And we're just going to knock and say hi?"

"Of course not." His amused smile had returned. "He and Sargent Barnes are out training right now. I want you to be familiar with their mental state throughout this process, and I believe you'll find their rooms to be telling."

When he opened the door to Captain Roger's room, I saw what he meant. The grey walls were entirely barren, and the rest of the room was impossibly organized. It didn't look like he'd even touched it.

"How long has he lived here?" I inquired.

"About four years," Mr. Coulson responded.

I nodded as I noticed the monochromatic wardrobe in his closet. "And have any attempts been made to get him to-"

"We've tried everything," Mr. Coulson interrupted. "He makes excuses. Says there's no need to settle in if he's always going to be out. He's-"

"-still living like he's at war," I finished.

Mr. Coulson nodded. "Precisely. All he ever comes in here for is to sleep."

That comment made me look at his bed. It was covered in a giant fluffy duvet, and there were far too many pillows for anyone— let alone a soldier— to feel comfortable. I leaned down and pressed my hand into the mattress.

"First, he needs a firmer mattress. Get rid of all the excess pillows, and make sure the ones you replace them with are also firm. The duvet isn't necessary, it probably just weighs down on him at night. A quilt with some spare blankets would be better. All that unnecessary stuff probably makes it hard for him to shut his mind off— they're not easy to escape from if he has to."

I looked back to see Mr. Coulson writing these things down on an iPad. A grin came onto my face, happy to know that I was already helping. "Are the walls-"

"Soundproof? Yes, they are," Mr. Coulson answered. "That was the first thing we discovered. He would always wake up and run outside when he heard training going on at night, but from the sound of it, it seems he was never even asleep."

I shrugged. "Everyone has to sleep eventually. My guess is he stays awake until his body forces him to sleep, which is probably averaging somewhere around twenty hours a week." I heard the tapping noise of Mr. Coulson's fingers on the iPad again. "He also needs some color in here. Color strongly impacts mood, and grey won't help him get anywhere. Start by painting the walls cream, and then the wall with the bed on it navy blue. As for the clothes, I suggest someone go pick out something a bit more personal for him. After a while, he'll let his opinion be known, and will begin to invest personal time into making sure you guys get it right."

I took in a deep breath and waited for Mr. Coulson to finish writing down what I said. After a moment, he asked, "Is that all?"

"I think it's a good place to start," I replied. "He's not going to do these things on his own— he thinks they're unnecessary. Once the ball gets rolling, though, I'm sure he'll become interested."

Mr. Coulson nodded. "Onto Sargent Barnes' room, then." I followed him out of the room and across the hall.

Oddly enough, Sargent Barnes' room was entirely different. It was a mess, open books strewn across a desk, clothes scattered in the closet, and the bedding halfway onto the floor. An amused smile came onto my face upon seeing it. That is, until I also noticed a punching bag in the corner.

"Remove that, it needs to be kept elsewhere," I told him. "A bedroom is meant to be a peaceful place, and if it's kept in here, his mind won't be able to shut down. Get a book shelf installed in that corner, and put a big leather chair there for him to sit in to read…" I trailed off when I noticed a mini fridge crammed in the corner. "…does he have a habit of hoarding?"

The tapping of taking notes stopped when I asked that. "Pardon?" Mr. Coulson said.

"I said does he have a habit of hoarding," I repeated. Mr. Coulson looked confused, but I crossed the room to take another look in the closet. It was crammed full of random items ranging from CDs to cookie packets.

"…not that we've noticed, no," he finally replied.

A disconcerted frown came onto my face. "He's been sneaky about it, then. Hoarding can sometimes be seen in orphans, people who aren't used to having things. Once they are put in a better situation, they retain the habits of trying to keep the few things they've been given."

My. Coulson looked surprised, but he wrote down my words. "What steps do you think could be taken to reduce this habit?"

"A restart," I sighed. "It's often stressful, but it's the only way someone can see what they've been doing. Paint the walls a rusty red, I'm seeing a lot of that color in his things. Install the bookshelf, like I said, and add the chair. Then have someone come in here and do a thorough clean of the room, including organizing things. He needs to see that this mess isn't an acceptable way of living, but also understand that it's okay to keep things."

"Anything else?" Mr. Coulson asked again.

I shook my head. "Nope. Just get that punching bag out of here."

Mr. Coulson smiled. "Noted. On to the last space, now." I took one last look in the room before I followed him out. As we continued down the hallway, I noticed the names on the plaques outside each room. At the end of the hallway was a large communal room with a tv, a few couches, and a kitchen. The way it was laid out almost reminded me of a college dorm.

"Your space is through there," Mr. Coulson said as he motioned the left side of the room. There was a wall with an opening on the left side, but no door. I found myself thinking this was smart, because the last thing a soldier needed was to feel locked in a room.

As soon as we walked in, I was greeted with a view of trees and grass out a giant window. Other than that, it was the same grey walls and barren space that I had seen in every other room. Confusion swept over me, but Mr. Coulson read my mind.

"Whatever you want, we'll get it," he said. "Don't worry about the cost. We know your opinion will be best."


	4. Preparation Part 2

**Preparation Part 2**

 _"Your space is through there," Mr. Coulson said as he motioned to the right side of the room. There was a wall with an opening on the left side, but no door. I found myself thinking this was smart, because the last thing a soldier needed was to feel locked in a room._

 _As soon as we walked in, I was greeted with a view of trees and grass out a giant window. Other than that, it was the same grey walls and barren space that I had seen in every other room. Confusion swept over me, but Mr. Coulson read my mind._

 _"Whatever you want, we'll get it," he said. "Don't worry about the cost. We know your opinion will be best."_

I dropped my duffle bag on the ground and took a look around. "I'll need a bit to think," I laughed awkwardly.

"I'm sure," Mr. Coulson replied lightly. "Here—" he said, taking a piece of paper out of his suit pocket. "You'll need the wifi password. Take all the time you need, and email me a list afterward."

As soon as I nodded, he left. I stood there for a moment, simply trying to wrap my head around things. "Right…" I sighed. "What would be best…" I sat down on the ground and pulled out my laptop. A few clicks later, I was in the wifi and searching the web for possibilities.

My mind was filled with paint swatch color codes and calming color palettes. When I found myself looking at a sofa, I sighed. "It'd be nice if I had some measurements in here," I mumbled. The best I could figure was the room was somewhere around thirteen feet by sixteen feet. Perhaps that's why I jumped when an Irish voice answered my question.

"The exact dimensions are thirteen and a half feet by seventeen feet."

I put a hand over my heart as my body whipped around. The room was still empty. "Who-"

"My apologies, my name is FRIDAY," the bodiless voice said. "I am Mr. Stark's personal AI system. I am only available in the residential areas of the compound."

"I see," I breathed. "I, uh…what were those dimensions again?"

"Thirteen and a half feet by seventeen feet," FRIDAY replied.

I looked down at my computer screen again. The sectional was large, about nine feet long. I tried to imagine it in the corner by the window, but I couldn't be sure. Would it fit the way I thought?

"Are you in need of assistance?" FRIDAY asked.

I was startled again, but settled down enough to process the question. "Uh, yeah, I am. I'm looking at a sectional, it's nine feet long, and then the chaise part is five feet. I was thinking of putting it…mmm, there," I motioned generally to the corner by the window.

"I understand," FRIDAY said. Suddenly, a port popped out of the wall beside me. "May I access your computer?"

After some hesitation, I took the cord from the port and plugged it in. The room filled with a humming noise, almost as though FRIDAY was thinking. "Is this the sectional you are referring to?"

I yelped slightly when the sectional appeared before me. My eyes wide, I stepped forward to touch it. My hand went right through it. A hologram.

"Y-Yes, that's the one. I was looking at the charcoal grey color," I told her. Before my eyes, the fabric on the sectional changed colors. I took a few steps back to look at it before I nodded. "Yeah, that's right…what else can you do?"

"What else do you need me to do?" FRIDAY asked. "I see here you have a paint color pulled up in tab number two— Sherwin Williams 7557."

"Yes, that's the one I was going to use," I answered. A moment later, the walls were washed with the light cream color I had envisioned. I went forward, expecting another hologram, but was met with a solid wall. "How-?"

"The walls are controlled by light panels," FRIDAY answered. "They can be changed at any time to suit your needs."

A large grin was growing on my face. This was going to be fun.

An hour later, I was sitting on the ground admiring my work. The first half of the room had a large wooden desk with a fabric chair. Above the desk were some of my favorite quotes, some from movies and historical figures, and others from the Bible or fictional books. A coral knotted rug laid behind the desk, and a large white lamp was on top of the desk. On the other side of the room was the large sectional, plus a few oriental and knotted poofs to be used as a foot rest or chair. On the wall opposite the sectional was a towering white media center with a place for a tv, speaker system, and plenty of books. A fluffy cream rug was in the center of the floor, and a coffee table sat on top of it. Finally, a large terrarium hung by the window with a basket of blankets beneath it.

"Is the room to your satisfaction?" FRIDAY asked.

I smiled brightly. "Yeah, it is."

"A file has been sent to Agent Coulson," FRIDAY replied.

I was just about to say thank you when there was a knock on the wall. I spun around on my blanket to see Sargent Barnes looking a little more than distressed. The holograms were beginning to fizzle away, leaving us in an empty room.

"What is going on in my room?" he demanded softly. "They won't let me in, what is going on?"

I blinked. I hadn't anticipated they would get to work that fast. "Mr. Coulson let me into your room while you were out training in order to evaluate your mental state. I did so, gave them my notes as to how your room could be improved, and have been in here since," I answered honestly. Trying to beat around the bush wouldn't help.

He shifted uncomfortably. "I saw them taking away my punching bag."

"Yes," I said calmly.

His stubborn voice replied immediately. "Why?"

I sighed. "Because a bedroom is a place for peace and tranquility, not for exercising. Having separate areas for separate purposes will help you calm down at night so you can sleep."

His jaw clenched. "I sleep just fine."

"Yeah, because that's how dark circles get under your eyes," I replied sarcastically as I folded my arms. "From plenty of sleep."

Sargent Barnes sighed loudly, his right hand coming up to rub his temple. I noticed his metal hand had relaxed from the fist it had been in when he first entered. "They won't move the books, right?" His voice was so quiet, almost like a desperate child.

My eyes softened, and I found myself getting up from the floor. "No, no they won't. I asked them to put in a bookshelf so you can have a place to put them. And I'll keep plenty of books in here, too, and you're welcome to read those any time you like."

Sargent Barnes nodded slowly. His eyes finally came up from the floor, and I watched as he scanned the room. "What is this going to be?"

I smiled. "This is my place. I'm gonna help you and Captain Rogers get up to speed on things. Any questions you have about culture, history, society— I'm here to answer them."

A tentative laugh came out of his lips. "It's a long list of questions."

"I'm sure," I said as my own smile grew. "But hey, we have all the time in the world. Today was just my first tour of the area and getting things set up, but I'll be back tomorrow. You and Captain Rogers can let me know how you like or dislike your rooms, and ask any first questions then."

"Steve," Sargent Barnes said suddenly. "Just call him Steve. He doesn't like it when people call him Captain outside of the battlefield."

I nodded. "Duly noted…James." A comfortable silence spanned as the both of us became lost in our thoughts staring around the room. After a moment more, I cleared my throat. "You wouldn't, um…you wouldn't happen to know how I'm getting home, do you?"

Sargent Barnes shook his head. "Not a clue."

"Your flight back leaves in ten minutes, Miss Reynolds," FRIDAY cut in. "Agent Coulson is on his way to pick you up."

I gave Sargent Barnes a wry look. "I suppose that answers that question." He shared my look of amusement. I knelt down and began packing my things, only to have him come over and stop me.

"Those textbooks don't look light," he commented.

"They're not," I snorted. "Makes me wish I'd gotten rid of them after college."

"They have closets all over this place," Sargent Barnes said. "I bet there's somewhere you could keep it so you don't have to take it back and forth."

I was about to reply, but Mr. Coulson entered at that moment. "It's time to head home for the day, Miss Reynolds."

I nodded, then turned to smile at Sargent Barnes. "I'll see you and Capt- Steve tomorrow." I handed my bag over to him. "And I would like to see my textbooks then, too."

A guilty grin came onto Sargent Barnes' face, but he nodded regardless.


	5. Resolution

**Resolution**

 _I nodded, then turned to smile at Sargent Barnes. "I'll see you and Capt- Steve tomorrow." I handed my bag over to him. "And I would like to see my textbooks then, too."_

 _A guilty grin came onto Sargent Barnes' face, but he nodded regardless._

The sunlight shining in the room couldn't fill the silence that hung in the air. I was holding my breath, too scared to say anything to break the tension.

"...why would they do that?"

I finally exhaled, the words spilling out of my mouth. "I think you can understand. Sometimes you feel cornered, like there's no way out, and the only options are bad ones. You have to make a choice at some point."

"One year..." Captain Rogers shook his head. "One year, I'm in the ice, and everything goes so wrong they feel the need to drop two atomic bombs."

I sighed, but nodded in agreement. I couldn't imagine how Steve felt hearing about how the war really ended. It wasn't glory, it wasn't honor. It was brutal. But it was history, and they deserved to know.

"They did what they thought was best at the time, Steve. Just like all of us. You've had to make decisions on the battlefield before that you might now regret, but you can't know how things would've gone had you chosen differently," I explained gently.

"Not everyone has a choice," Sargent Barnes' voice cut through the silence. I looked over at him, surprised he'd spoken. His shoulders were hunched, and his hands were folded together. It almost looked like he was trying to restrain himself.

The anger in Captain Roger's eyes melted away into sorrow when Sargent Barnes said this. I found my own heart twist in pain, but I put on a sympathetic smile. "Precisely. Not everyone has a choice. War is war, either way you look at it."

Captain Rogers nodded slowly at this, still looking as though he was trying to understand it all.

I took in a deep breath and continued where I'd left off. "Even if we don't like it, it was a quick way to end things. Japan finally surrendered just a few days after the bombings, bringing the war to a close. During all of this, of course, they were still looking for you, Steve."

He shook his head. "I'm glad they didn't find me then," he said as he stood up from the couch. A frown was etched deep into his face. "I wouldn't wanna work for people like them."

I watched closely as Captain Rogers left the room. His typically perfect posture seemed more tense than usual, and his hands kept tightening into fists. I sighed, closing my history book and getting up from the couch to put it on the shelf. It was our first Saturday, and even though everything felt perfect when I walked into the newly designed room, I should've known it wouldn't stay that way. Talking about the end of the war was going to be tough either way.

Sargent Barnes cleared his throat from his position on the couch. "What about me?" he asked softly. "Were they-"

"No, no they weren't looking for you," I answered honestly. His face was neutral as I sat back down on the couch about a foot away from him. "The assumption was that you were dead. No one could've guessed what really happened. People just…" I sighed, deciding to be blunt. "People don't survive falls from trains."

An amused smirk came onto his face. "Honestly, sometimes I wish I hadn't survived the fall, too. A lot more people would be alive if I hadn't."

I frowned. Self deprecating humor. That was his method of getting through things, of handling his guilt. "Look up there," I instructed, pointing at one of the quotes that had been hung above the desk. "It says 'Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future.' That quote is by-"

"John F. Kennedy, I know," Sargent Barnes cut in. "You know I killed him, right?"

I forced a smile onto my face. "Well, I'm sure he wouldn't hold it against you. He was a very nice man, or so we're told. He hated war just like the rest of us, even though he had to deal with a lot of it during his presidency. That quote is very important, though. You can't move on to a brighter future if you keep living in the past."

Sargent Barnes nodded, still looking deep in thought. Sensing that a topic change might be good, I nodded my head toward a sheet of paper next to him. "What's that?"

He picked up the paper and gave it to me. "My list of questions."

My eyes scanned over it, and I found myself grinning. "How about you go down the list and ask me the questions? I'll answer them as well as I can."

He cleared his throat before he read, "Why is coffee such a big deal?"

"Coffee has caffeine, and caffeine gives people an energy boost. Society likes to move fast, and a lot of people become addicted to coffee and can't live without it. Companies like Starbucks began finding ways to make it more palatable, and that's why it's a big deal."

"What is an apple?"

"Do you mean the technology company?"

"…yes?"

"They make computers, phones, watches, stuff like that. They're easy to use and look cool, so they're very popular."

"Okay…why are there so many different types of food? I keep seeing words I don't understand, like paleo, vegan, gluten free, that sort of thing."

"Because we have easier access to food nowadays, people are becoming more picky with how they eat. From what I've heard, paleo is when people decide to eat only whole foods— nothing processed. Vegan is like the next level up from being a vegetarian. Not only do they not eat meat, they also don't eat or use any products from animals at all. The gluten-free thing is a bit more of a fad right now, but there are some people who can't eat gluten because of health reasons. It's called celiac disease."

Sargent Barnes let out a sigh. "Is everything more complicated now or is it just me?"

I laughed. "No, it's not just you. I think people always try to make things easier, but they just wind up more frustrating. Like taxes."

"Now there's one thing I know hasn't gone away," he chuckled as he stood up. "I'll save my other questions for next time."

"Sounds like a plan," I replied as I mimicked his actions. I began folding the blanket I'd taken out of the basket. I'd just put it back in its place when I heard Sargent Barnes' voice start speaking. "Sorry, what was that?"

He cleared his throat. "I asked if you would like to see my room. It's all different now, and the, ah, the guy…what's his name?" he asked.

"Mr. Coulson?" I suggested.

"Yeah, him," he nodded. "He wanted you to make sure they got everything right."

"Sure!" I smiled as I grabbed my purse. I followed James out of the room, taking a right down to the corridor of bedrooms. He opened the door and walked in, stepping off to the side to let me look around.

A grin came onto my face as I looked around. They'd followed my directions to a T. "FRIDAY, give me the specifications," I requested.

"Of course. The walls are Sherwin Williams 6622. The bookshelf in the far left corner is from IKEA, and the leather chair is a midcentury modern piece from the website Article. The punching bag has been placed in the gym one floor below, and a maintenance crew came through to do a thorough clean. His belongings were organized into their proper areas. Sargent Barnes regained access to his room last night at 8:27 PM."

I nodded my head, then looked at Sargent Barnes. "You okay with everything?"

"I think I will be," he replied with a shrug. "It's not that I don't like it, but-"

"It takes time getting used to change," I finished understandingly. "How did you sleep last night?"

A begrudging smile came onto his face. "Better than usual."

My right hand lifted reflexively to pat him on the shoulder, but I refrained. He hadn't given any indicators that he was fine with physical touch, and I didn't want to make him uncomfortable. "That's good! Hopefully you can become more settled in here now that there are more places to put things. Did you organize your books?"

Sargent Barnes was about to answer, but a knock at the door cut him off. Captain Rogers entered, looking bashful and a bit nervous. "Sorry, I went back to see if you were still there, and I knew Coulson wanted Bucky and me to get your approval on our rooms, so I figured-"

"It's fine," I told him. "Let's go next door to take a look, alright?"

Captain Rogers nodded shyly. I could sense that he felt embarrassed at his angry behavior earlier, but it wasn't like I would hold that against him. I'd be angry, too. Sargent Barnes followed us across the hall, where we found that Captain Roger's room had been equally transformed.

"Specifications, please," I requested again.

"Of course," FRIDAY said immediately. "Feature wall is Sherwin Williams 9176, the other walls are Sherwin Williams 7105. Bedding and mattress have been replaced as per your instructions. Personalized clothing has been picked out and placed in the closet."

I took a glance into his closet and saw that it no longer contained a greyscale of clothing. An array of colors were on display through t-shirts, polos, and a few sweaters. I felt Sargent Barnes' presence near me as he also took a look in the closet.

"Polka dots?" he snickered as he pulled out a collared shirt. "Really?"

Captain Rogers chuckled with a grimace. "Yeah, I know. I hate 'em, but they didn't exactly ask for my input."

"Perhaps because you never gave it before?" I commented slyly.

The Captain hung his head with a wry smile. "Yeah…I never did before."

I continued my gander around the room, but I could sense that something in the atmosphere had shifted. Captain Roger's feet were shuffling toward where Sargent Barnes stood, and I pretended to be busy studying the new bedding.

"Buck…I just wanna say I'm sorry…for, for what I said earlier," he said. "I know you didn't have a choice, and…we've all had to do stuff that we now look back on and regret. I'm sorry I didn't think about that sooner."

I turned back in time to see an appreciative smile appear on Sargent Barnes' face. "Thanks, Steve."

After a moment, I clasped my hands together. "Well, I think we're done for the day. I'll be back next Saturday around the same time, and we'll be moving on in history. Remember to keep writing down any questions you have. My only other request is that you keep a sleeping journal," I suggested. At their raised eyebrows, I explained. "It's nothing crazy, just write down how you slept on a scale of 1 to 5 when you wake up. We'll look over your journals when I come back and see how your sleep has improved. Sound good?"

"Yes, ma'am," Captain Rogers nodded. Sargent Barnes nodded his head in affirmation.

I smiled before I walked out, quickly reaching for my phone to help me figure out how to get back to the airstrip. One week down, many to go.


	6. Correlation

**Correlation**

 _"Yes, ma'am," Captain Rogers nodded. Sargent Barnes nodded his head in affirmation._

 _I smiled before I walked out, quickly reaching for my phone to help me figure out how to get back to the airstrip. One week down, many to go._

I received the email on Tuesday. We'd been so busy in the office this week, comparing polls for the upcoming election, going around and conducting interviews in the surrounding area, and writing articles as fast as facts came in that I'd hardly had time to think about my weekend at a top secret superhero facility. Perhaps that's why it took me a minute to figure out who the email could possibly be from.

The net ID was entirely unrecognizable, but the name before it read "jbuchanan." I stared at my screen with a blank expression for a full minute before it clicked. Even then, I was curious as to how Sargent Barnes had figured out how to write an email.

After checking over my shoulder to make sure no one was nearby, I opened the email.

 **"Dear Miss Reynolds,**

 **Sam showed me how to write one of these email things. I don't think it will work, but he assures me that this letter should reach you as soon as I send it. I've been writing down my questions, but something has been bothering me and I'd like an answer sooner than Saturday. Everyone around here keeps talking about the election. It's the only thing people talk about, and I have no idea what is going on. I'd appreciate your help with this.**

 **Sincerely,**  
 **James"**

The email first made me laugh to myself, but then I stopped to think about it. Being lost in a political conversation was never fun, especially if you already struggle with normal conversations. I checked over my shoulder once more before I began my reply.

 **"Dear James,**

 **I'm glad Sam showed you how to use email! It's pretty simple once you get the hang of it, and it'll help you communicate with anyone you meet. The election has been a big deal this year, so I understand how you might be lost…"**

I stopped writing. This was going to take a while to explain, and it wouldn't be easy, either. An idea popped into my head, and I found myself shutting my laptop before I walked down the hall. I knocked on the door in front of me, heard a muffled "come in," and opened the door.

"Mr. Fields, I have an idea," I said immediately.

My boss turned around, a frustrated expression on his face as he studied a piece of paper. He set it down with a sigh before he looked at me. "Hit me with it."

I sat down in the chair opposite of him. "This election is driving everyone in our office crazy. News comes out faster than we can type. The old fashioned way isn't gonna cut it."

"And your proposal is?" Mr. Fields inquired.

"A timeline," I said. "A constantly growing timeline. Whenever something happens, we add the event. It'll keep everything in a clear, chronological order for our readers to see. They'll go down the line and be able to see causation, how one event lead to another, what the latest news is. It can be set up right under our main banner, in the perfect location for people to see and click on."

Mr. Fields hummed. "If you can get the IT guys to set it up, I don't have a problem with it. If it works, it'll make our job easier."

"I'll get to work on it!" I promised as I sped out the door. A quick trip to the IT department later, I sat down at my desk to finish my email.

 **"Your email gave me an idea. Have Steve show you how to get to our news website. A solution will be up within a few days. Also, feel free to call me Eliza.**

 **Thank you,**  
 **Eliza"**

It wasn't until an hour later that I received a simple response.

 **"Thank you, Eliza."**

I smiled and got back to work.

* * *

I got the second email Wednesday.

I was in the middle of chatting with my coworkers about the new timeline when I heard the notification on my phone. After excusing myself to check it, I found another email from jbuchanan.

 **"Dear Eliza,**

 **What time will you be arriving on Saturday? I overheard Coulson saying that there will be a lot of rain that morning, so I thought I should warn you. Also, I hope you don't mind, but I started reading through your psychology textbook. I should be done with it by tomorrow, and I have some more questions about it.**

 **Sincerely,**  
 **James"**

My curiosity tried to goad me into looking at what areas in upstate New York were anticipating rain Saturday morning, but I resisted. It was probably better that I didn't know.

 **"Dear James,**

 **I usually arrive around 10am, so I'll be sure to wear a raincoat! Thank you for the heads up. Which psychology book are you reading? I look forward to your questions about it!**

 **Thank you,**  
 **Eliza"**

The return email only took thirty minutes this time.

 **"Dear Eliza,**

 **It's titled Sensation and Perception by Bruce Goldstein. Why does it say this is the twelfth edition?**

 **Sincerely,**  
 **James"**

And thus began our constant correspondence.

* * *

On Thursday, I answered questions about what national adopt-a-dog month was and who decided these arbitrary holidays.

 **"Dear James,**

 **People often make these 'holidays' or 'awareness months' to promote something they care about. October is also Breast Cancer Awareness Month and Lupus Awareness Month, to name a few. I'm not really sure who decides these things, honestly, but now I'd like to find out.**

 **Have you and Steve been keeping up with your sleeping logs?**

 **Thank you,**

 **Eliza"**

His response came five minutes later, and it nearly made me laugh out loud.

 **"Dear Eliza,**

 **They should have Former Assassins Trying To Be Good Awareness Month.**

 **Yes, we have been keeping up with our logs. I have been keeping notes about how long it takes me to fall asleep, how many times I wake up in the night, why I woke up in the night, and how I feel when I wake up. I hope that will be sufficient information.**

 **Sincerely,**  
 **James"**

* * *

On Friday, I decided to send the first email.

 **"Dear James,**

 **I'm sorry it took a few days, but it's finally up. All you need to know about what has been happening in the election is on our website at the very top! I hope it's helpful for you and everyone else who needs it.**

 **See you tomorrow,**  
 **Eliza"**

It hardly took two minutes before the reply came in.

 **"Dear Eliza,**

 **See you tomorrow.**

 **Sincerely,**  
 **James"**

That night, I found myself humming as I packed a backpack for the next morning. I made sure to include a raincoat, assuming James' weather report was accurate. I sat down and reviewed my lesson plan— next up, space race.


	7. Exploration

**Exploration**

 _That night, I found myself humming as I packed a backpack for the next morning. I made sure to include a raincoat, assuming James' weather report was accurate. I sat down and reviewed my lesson plan— next up, space race._

"Glad to see you're always prepared, Miss Reynolds," Mr. Coulson greeted me. He stood there in his usual perfectly polished suit, the only difference being the giant black umbrella he held above his head.

I grinned as my rain boots splashed in a puddle forming at the bottom of the airplane steps. "I might have gotten a tip," I commented.

Mr. Coulson nodded. "I understand Barnes has been emailing you?"

"Yeah, he hates waiting to get his questions answered," I replied, amusement seeping into my voice.

Mr. Coulson gave me a glance as we passed through the doors to the front lobby. "If it's too much trouble-"

"Nah," I shook my head as I took off my hood. "It's not too distracting. I've learned more random facts this week than I have in my twenty five years."

He nodded again. "They're currently training on the floor below us, but they'll be ready within the hour. We went ahead and got those movies you requested, as well."

"I appreciate it," I said. "I think the movies will kill two birds with one stone— learning history and adjusting to modern technology."

"Sounds like a plan," Mr. Coulson replied. "I have a meeting to attend, but do keep me updated."

I nodded my head as he walked away. "Roger that," I called. He gave me a thumbs up, and I grinned as I started off in the direction of the residential area of the compound. My feet carried me based on photographic memory, and soon enough I was back in my room setting up the dvd to play.

"FRIDAY, could you darken the room? I can't find any blinds for the window," I explained.

"Of course," FRIDAY replied. A Roman shade revealed itself from above the window and began to slowly fall down to cover the light. "Would you prefer light filtering or blackout?"

"Blackout," I responded as I went over to turn on the lamp on my desk. Now the room was lit only by the warm light from the lamp and the light coming from the doorway. "Any suggestions for where to get popcorn, FRIDAY?"

"Go to the kitchen cabinet on the lower left side of the refrigerator. A bowl will be in there, as well."

"Thanks, FRIDAY!" I called as I walked over to the kitchen. I found the bags just where she said. I grabbed two and stuck them in the microwave, taking the time I had to locate some butter and salt.

"It's in the top right corner."

I jumped and turned around to see Sam Wilson smirking with his arms crossed.

"Does everyone walk quietly here or just you?" I breathed.

Sam snorted. "Everyone. You can't shake off training, not when it's been drilled into you."

I nodded, still focusing on getting my heart rate down. "Top right corner, you said?"

"Yup," he nodded as he sat down at the bar. He waited a moment to make sure I found it before he spoke. "How are they doing?"

I laughed lightly. "It's been a week, I don't think I can say yet."

Sam shrugged. "True. What are your plans for today?"

"History lesson," I told him. The microwave beeped, and I went over to grab the popcorn. "We're gonna talk about the space race, and I thought 'Hidden Figures' was a good place to start."

"Mmm now that's a good movie," Sam agreed. "Those ladies deserve all the credit we can give. Some of that research helped Stark with the design of my wing suit."

I nodded my head. "Precisely. It's fascinating to study how their research ties into our world now. I thought they'd prefer a movie to a lecture."

"Oh I'm sure," Sam said as he got up. He tapped his hand on the countertop a few times, then started to walk away. But the sound of his feet on the tile floor stopped.

"Keep me updated, okay? We need those two."

I looked up from my popcorn preparation. Sam's eyes were different from the rest of the Avengers. His eyes were open windows into his heart. He'd gone through the same horrors of any soldier, but he seemed like he'd gotten help and moved on. The longer I looked, the clearer I saw fear. He didn't want them to continue living this way.

"I'll keep you updated, I promise."

My answer seemed to satisfy Sam, and he continued his exit shortly after. A few minutes later, I was at my desk typing up the latest addition to the timeline as I waited for James and Captain Rogers to arrive. A gentle knock at the doorway alerted me that one of them had come.

"Hi!" I greeted as I spun around in my chair.

"Hey," James replied softly. "Why is it dark in here?"

"We're gonna be watching a movie today," I explained as I shut my laptop.

"About?"

"The space race," I answered. I motioned for him to follow me to the couch, where I had left the popcorn bowl. He sat down, and I made my way over to the blanket basket. "In the fifties, sixties, and seventies, there was this big competition between Russia and the United States to see who could get into space and explore it first."

"Sounds interesting," Captain Rogers commented as he entered the room.

I made my way back to the couch with an armful of blankets. "It is. This movie was released four years ago in 2016. Won a few awards, I think." I looked to my right to gage their reactions. Captain Rogers seemed intrigued, but James looked slightly wary.

A smile crept onto my face. "The movie was based off a book— I'm sure you can ask for it, James." His expression changed when I said that, and I leaned back into the couch satisfied that I'd guessed correctly.

The movie started, and I found myself watching their reactions more than I watched the movie. Captain Rogers was captivated by John Glen, and James' eyebrows lifted every time he watched the calculations Katherine computed. We were about thirty minutes into the movie when there was a knock at the entrance.

We looked over and saw Dr. Banner standing there. "I heard the movie, and I was curious if I could, ah, if I could join."

I smiled brightly and motioned to the area. "Sit wherever you like." He nodded quickly, making his way over and apologizing when he walked in front of the tv. He settled for a spot on the chaise of the sectional, a bit away from the rest of us.

This was the moment I would look back on and realize why Sam had appeared earlier when I was making popcorn. It seemed that when popcorn was made, it was a signal that a movie was playing. Ten minutes after Dr. Banner joined us, Wanda wandered in with Vision. They took a seat on my left near Dr. Banner, taking up any remaining space on the couch. Shortly after that, Natasha Romanov and Sam Wilson plopped down on the floor, looking like they'd just come back from training.

For some reason, the sight of Earth's mightiest heroes becoming enraptured by a movie made me want to laugh. I recalled what Mr. Coulson had said, that this was where they became actual humans. And at the end of the day, who didn't love a good movie?

It was then when I was caught up in my thoughts that I felt a twitch on my right. Subtly, my eyes drifted to look at James' face. His eyes were oddly blank. I looked back at the screen and saw why. Katherine had just delivered the final calculations, only to have the door slam in her face. She was shut out.

I turned my attention back to James, knowing what was about to happen in the movie. The second the door opened up and Katherine was allowed in the control room, a deep breath left his lips. At that moment, I realized how close we were. I was pushed up against him, close enough to notice the light blue color of his eyes and to feel the warmth his body exuded.

I forced myself to turn my attention back to the movie, but I found myself analyzing what just happened. Did he understand how Katherine felt? What made him feel shut out? Why am I noticing every movement of his arm next to mine?

At some point during all of this, I began to doze off. The dark room had definitely set me at ease, and the human space heater on my right wasn't helping. I woke up just as the final credits started, and the blackout curtain slowly rolled up. The first thing I noticed was how silent the room was, which was weird considering there were eight people present.

"So…" I trailed off as I sat up straighter. "Thoughts?"

"Why were they treated like that?" Captain Rogers said immediately. "In the army, everyone was equal."

"Separate and equal aren't the same," Miss Romanov quoted. "You probably didn't notice it."

A tense silence hung in the air for a moment.

"Is that how people see me?" Wanda asked softly. "See us? Different?"

I took in a deep breath and looked around the room. Everyone was staring at the ground, except for Sam. We locked eyes, and he nodded.

"Different, perhaps," I stated honestly. "Essential? Absolutely. You guys do things most people couldn't imagine doing. You fight to protect the people of this planet, no matter the odds. Not many people have the guts to do that."

"Differences aren't always a disadvantage," Sam added on. "Sometimes it's what gives us the upper hand."

I watched as these thoughts circled the room, and it was then I was reminded of who I had just watched a movie with. A gentle scientist who could turn into an uncontrollable force of rage at will. A former KGB agent. A girl who could control things with her mind. An android powered by an alien stone. A soldier from World War Two. A wing suit pilot. And finally, the man sitting on my right who had lived a lifetime with more than enough horrors to go around. It was no wonder they felt different.

"Did they ever get there?"

I jumped slightly. "Sorry?"

"Did they ever get there," James repeated. "To the moon."

A smile formed on my face. "They did, actually. I'm sure I could find the video on youtube somewhere-"

"FRIDAY, play the Apollo 11 lunar landing," Dr. Banner requested. I shot him a grateful smile as the video started playing on the screen.

The tension in the room disintegrated as the iconic footage rolled. I found myself smiling as I heard the iconic quote, "one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." My gaze turned to the people around me. Small steps.


	8. Transaction

**Transaction**

 _The tension in the room disintegrated as the iconic footage rolled. I found myself smiling as I heard the iconic quote, "one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." My gaze turned to the people around me. Small steps._

Sunday night, I sat down on my bed to look over the sleeping logs I'd been given. Compared to the data Coulson provided, it looked like Captain Rogers and James were doing better overall. Satisfied that improvements had been made, I closed the documents and walked over to place them on my desk. I opened up my laptop and looked over my lesson plan again. It was going to be a busy week.

* * *

Monday

 **"Good morning you two!**

 **I have a few assignments for you this week. I'll be sending you an email every other day with something for you to learn about. We're going to focus mostly on current culture — something that I'm sure you need every day.**

 **Steve, your assignment is to watch the movie The Imitation Game and email me back with your thoughts on how Alan Turing contributed to the creation of computers.**

 **James, your assignment is to read Alan Turing: The Enigma. I requested that it be made available for you in the library. You will also email me back about your thoughts on Alan Turing.**

 **I want to hear back by tomorrow night.**

 **Have fun!**

 **Eliza"**

* * *

Tuesday

It was just after three in the afternoon when I got my first response.

 **"Dear Eliza,**

 **After reading the book you suggested, I'm having too many thoughts to write down. Alan Turing was a genius, and it's hard to believe that someone from our time was the first person to invent a computer like you use and like the ones they used in the space race. My favorite quote of his was this one: 'we can only see a short distance ahead, but we can see plenty there that needs to be done'. I feel like that can apply to many things, whether it be the election, the Avengers, or myself. There are always improvements to be made.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **James"**

A large grin came onto my face and wouldn't leave all day, not even when I got Captain Roger's hilariously long and analytical review of the movie.

* * *

Wednesday

 **"Hello again!**

 **I'm glad to hear that you both enjoyed learning about the beginning of computers. Next on the list is one of the biggest technological companies of our time: Apple.**

 **Steve, you get to watch the Steve Jobs movie.**

 **James, you get to read Steve Jobs: The Man Who Thought Different. (Again, it's in the library for you.)**

 **After that, you need to go to the App Store (ask Sam for clarification) and make a list of five apps you think would be useful.**

 **Get back to me by tomorrow night, and have fun!**

 **Eliza"**

* * *

Thursday

I was at home eating take out for dinner when two emails popped up on my computer at the same time. After a moment's hesitation, I clicked on the one from James first.

 **"Dear Eliza,**

 **Again, why does everything seem so complicated? Why do people need a computer in their home, and then a smaller computer in their pocket and on their wrist at the same time? Don't they all do the same thing? Maybe it's just me, but I don't understand the point of it all.**

 **I did find five apps that I thought were useful, though.**

 **1\. Messages**

 **2\. Notes**

 **3\. iBooks (why do a lot of things have an 'i' in front of them?)**

 **4\. iTunes**

 **5\. Camera**

 **Sam said all of these apps were "normal" ones that "come with the phone", but I think they'd all be useful.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **James"**

I skimmed over Captain Roger's email after, but my mind was filled with images of James figuring out that there was a camera. I giggled at the idea of him flipping through various filters and losing his mind over it.

* * *

Friday

 **"Last assignment for the week!**

 **You guys have been great at getting back to me! I hope you feel like you've learned some valuable information. This last task is pretty simple: take one of the questions from your list and Google it. Send me the question and the answer you find. Because this should take five minutes, I'll be looking for a response tonight.**

 **See you two tomorrow,**

 **Eliza"**

I sent the email at nine am like usual, expecting to hear back before noon at the very latest. As always on Fridays, however, we were typing as fast as we could in the office. I didn't register the fact that I never received a reply until I was driving home at seven.

Slight panic ran through my heart. Surely there was a reason James hadn't gotten back to me? Their base was far too isolated for an attack. A mission, perhaps? No, nothing had been on the news.

It was an hour later, and I was sitting at my desk drumming my fingers incessantly. I still hadn't heard from them, and I was getting more anxious with each passing minute. Finally, I caved and grabbed my phone and Mr. Coulson's card. A few seconds later, I was listening to endless ringing.

"Come on…come on…pick up," I mumbled shakily.

There was a click. "Hello?"

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Hi, Mr. Coulson. I'm so sorry to bother you, but I needed to contact Jam- I mean, Sargent Barnes and Captain Rogers. I emailed them earlier with their latest assignment, and they haven't gotten back to me like they usually do, and I-" I stopped my rambling. "I became concerned."

Mr. Coulson's smile was audible. "Would you like me to patch you through to Captain Rogers?"

"Sure," I said quickly. "Yes, yeah, yes, that'd be good. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Miss Reynolds." Instead of the typical on hold music I was used to, I was met with dead silence. For whatever reason, this made my heart rate increase again. It was unsettling, the silence.

Finally, the silence was cut. "Eliza?"

A wave of relief washed over me. "James, oh, I was, ah- I was expecting Steve," I stuttered.

"He just went to his room to get something, and left his phone here," James explained calmly. "He showed me how to answer a call before. Are…are you alright? You sound…different from usual."

"I was just worried," I laughed awkwardly. "I sent you guys that email this morning, and I never heard back. I mean, I guess you guys were just busy or something, which is fine, but I figured it wouldn't take very long. Maybe I sent it wrong-"

"No, I got it," James cut me off.

I paused in my rambling. "…oh?"

"Yes."

"…so…you were too busy to respond, then?"

"I, ah…" he trailed off. "Steve was. He's been out all day. I just, um…"

"Yes?" I prompted.

He sighed loudly. "I don't know how to Google."

"Huh?"

"I don't know how to Google," he repeated slowly. "And everyone was busy today, so I couldn't ask anyone."

I shut my eyes in frustration. Not with James, but with myself. Why didn't I think of that? "James, I'm so sorry, I didn't think that-"

"You didn't know," James chuckled. "Really, it's fine, Eliza. I'm sure you can show me tomorrow."

My heart rate sped up again. "Yeah, yeah, of course! I'd be happy to show you."

Silence reigned for a moment, and I found myself not really knowing what to say.

"Are you calm now?" James said after a beat.

I nodded. "Yes, I'm- I'm fine now, yeah."

"Good," he said, and I could almost imagine him grinning. "I will see you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah, I will see you then…James," I added on.

"Eliza," he echoed.

I took in another breath as I hung up. Everything was okay. I just overreacted. Things were fine. The poor man just didn't know what Google was and felt too embarrassed to say anything. I fell back on my bed with a sigh. I really needed to calm down sometimes.


	9. Friction

**Friction**

 _I took in another breath as I hung up. Everything was okay. I just over reacted. Things were fine. The poor man just didn't know what Google was and felt too embarrassed to say anything. I fell back on my bed with a sigh. I really needed to calm down sometimes._

A shot of anxiety ran through my heart, but I knocked anyways. After the sound of rustling, the door was opened by a metal arm. "You're early," he stated.

"Good to know you can use a clock," I teased. "Come on— I have my laptop set up in my room."

A grin came onto James' face. He let the door fall shut behind him as he followed me down the hall. "So…how do you Google?" he asked curiously.

I snorted lightly. "Google can be both a noun and a verb." James gave me an disbelieving look. "I know, it's weird. Google is a huge tech company like Apple, but they don't focus on consumer products as much. They're best known for an online search engine that helps you find anything you could ever need."

James' face screwed up in confusion. "Translation?"

"You type in your question and it finds you answers," I replied as I sat down at my desk. "Very helpful, and it's a great place to go for all of your random questions since we never seem to have enough time to go through the list. Come on, pull up a chair."

A moment later, I had the Google main page pulled up, and James was seated beside me. I pushed the computer toward him. "Type your question in the search bar," I told him.

"The what?" he asked.

I tapped the screen. "The search bar. First click on it with the track pad, then type your question." His look of befuddlement told me I hadn't eased his confusion. "Here, let me show you. What's one of the questions from your list?"

James pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper and looked it over. "Who is Michael Jackson?" he read. I nodded, clicking on the search box before I typed in his question and pressed enter. In a flash, pictures and articles showed up on the screen.

"See?" I motioned. "It's easy. Now you try. Type another question in there."

This time, James looked nervous when I slid the computer over to him. He looked down at the keys, obviously unfamiliar with how to type properly. He settled for pecking out a question one letter at a time: "how tall are giraffes?".

I gave him a side look, to which he said, "What? I've always wondered."

I did my best to hold back a laugh. "Now press the enter button…yup, that one right there." Pictures of giraffes came up, along with an estimated height of fifteen to twenty feet. "Is your curiosity satisfied?" I laughed as I watched his eyes scan the page.

"Yeah…yeah I think so," he mumbled. His fingers hesitantly dragged across the track pad until the cursor reached the "Images" selection. He clicked, and his eyes widened. Hundreds of pictures of giraffes appeared before him.

"Here, just use two fingers— yup, your right hand— and move them upward on the track pad. That'll let you see the rest of the page," I explained. James nodded, following my instructions and scrolling down the page slowly. "There you go. Apple products always have tons of short cuts to help you get around easier. It might take a while to get used to them, but I'm sure you'll-"

"Sorry, did someone mention the original sin?"

James and I turned to be met with the sight of Tony Stark. Dressed in an ensemble that probably cost at least half my yearly salary, the man was everything I'd ever dreamed of. And possibly worse.

I noticed James' posture straighten defensively. "She was teaching me about Apple-"

"An incredibly inferior form of technology," Mr. Stark finished. "I get it, the stuff here is too complicated."

I found myself standing up and blurting out words before I could stop them. "I'm sure you would find yourself confused by the vast array of technology available here if you had been out of society for eight decades too, Mr. Stark."

The billionaire paused at that. "I'm sorry, who are you?" I opened my mouth to answer, but he said, "No, no, no, let me remember. You're the, uh…therapy girl, right? Therapist? Journalist? Historian? Honestly, is there a job they didn't give you?"

I stood my ground, trying to make sure I didn't grind my teeth. "I was hired to assist Captain Rogers and Sargent Barnes in their adjustment to the 21st century. Not everyone grew up surrounded by the digital age like we did. Attempt to have some empathy, Mr. Stark."

The arrogant air around him grew cold. "That line. I know that line."

"It's from my feature on you from four years ago, during the Sokovian Accords," I reminded him. "It was the line that got us trending online."

"I remember," Mr. Stark bit out. "So why'd they hire you?"

I clasped my hands in front of me, trying to keep a neutral expression on my face. "Because my job has nothing to do with you, Mr. Stark. I'm not here to start a debate, I'm here to give help to those who need it. I understand we have our differences, but I ask that we set those aside for the sake of your fellow team members."

Mr. Stark's head finally lifted to look at me. He took a step forward, and I heard James stand up behind me. The billionaire's eyes lost their fire, went through various levels of confusion, and then settled on understanding. He laughed awkwardly, running a hand over the media center. His hand fell from the surface, and he nodded his head before he looked up.

"I see," he said. "I get it. You…" he trailed off, swallowing hard. "You do what you gotta do to get our boys in shape."

I inclined my head. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself when the crunch of a metal hand tightening sounded through the silence. The billionaire turned on his heel and left without another word.

James and I both took in and let out a deep breath the second he was gone.

"Well, that went…bad," I mumbled.

James tilted his head. "The article-?"

"It didn't exactly paint Tony as the hero," I sighed. "It was after the Sokovian Accords deal. People realized they were wrong, that Steve had been right…and all of you guys were gone." I shrugged. "People were scared. The Avengers that had protected them for years had split up, and no one knew what would come next. I wrote the article in an attempt to get Tony to apologize, to try to understand where he'd gone wrong, to get the team back…and I guess now even after you guys got things figured out, he still doesn't want to give up his pride."

James shrugged. "That's a good way of summing it up."

A laugh came out of my throat. "Yeah, I guess so." I glanced back at my desk, remembering my original lesson plan for the day. After a moment of contemplation, I turned back around. "FRIDAY, tell Captain Rogers to come here," I requested. "We need to get started on our lesson."

I could hear James take in a sharp breath. "Eliza-"

"I'm fine, James," I assured him, forcing a smile. "I have a job to do here."

His jaw clenched, and his right hand tightened into a fist. "I should've said something. He had no right to come in here and say those things."

I shook my head. "There was nothing you could've said that would've made it better," I insisted gently. "It's just adding fuel to the fire…more bait for him to latch onto."

I could tell James wasn't satisfied with this answer, but he let it drop. Captain Rogers entered a few minutes later, and we sat down on the couch to begin our lesson.

"So," I started. "The Cold War. It's a bit difficult to describe, because it's not like other wars. It was us versus Russia, the two powerhouses of the Allies in World War II. But we had our differences, and before you knew it, the threats started rolling in."

My story continued, detailing the fight between capitalism and communism, the creation of nuclear weapons, the invasion of the Bay of Pigs, and how it all came to a close. Captain Rogers listened closely, hanging onto every word, but James seemed to be lost in thought, his eyes drifting back and forth from the book in my hand to the trees out the window. I found myself wondering what it had been like four years ago. People had nicknamed it the "Civil War" of the Avengers, but I'm not sure it was.

It seemed to be more like the Cold War. Tensions that stood for years came to an all time high. Differences couldn't be set aside. Threats were idly made in an attempt to create peace. A few skirmishes occurred, but there were no lasting consequences, other than broken trust.

When the lesson ended, James got up and left. Captain Rogers apologized hastily before he left too, in hopes of finding James and figuring out what was wrong.

I left early that day. Mr. Coulson had a look on his face that said he knew what had happened, but he didn't say anything. When I got home, I set my backpack down at the door before I flopped on my bed. To say that today had gone awry would be an understatement.


	10. Interaction

**Interaction**

 _I left early that day. Mr. Coulson had a look on his face that said he knew what had happened, but he didn't say anything. When I got home, I set my backpack down at the door before I flopped on my bed. To say that today had gone awry would be an understatement._

 **"Dear Steve,**

 **I'm sending this email to just you because I think I upset James yesterday. I hope that you will relate the information in this email to him for me.**

 **With the election coming up in two weeks, I will be incredibly busy until I come back next Saturday. Because of this, I'm giving your assignments now.**

 **I'd like for both of you to look up the music (and the culture surrounding that music) of every decade from 1940's onward. Mr. Coulson said that a record player will be arriving tomorrow for my space. You're free to use it, as well as the records in the music archives in the library.**

 **Email me back with what you find whenever you can.**

 **Thank you,**  
 **Eliza"**

* * *

As anticipated, it was an incredibly busy week. Also as anticipated, I didn't hear from anyone at the Avengers facility. It wasn't like I expected to. Whatever had happened, it made James upset, and given his asocial tendencies, he wouldn't be one to come forward and talk about it. After mentally agonizing over it all Sunday, I finally decided that it wasn't my place anyways. Captain Rogers would be the one to help James if he needed it.

Or so I thought.

After a staff meeting on Wednesday morning, I came back to my desk and discovered that my phone had three missed calls from an unknown number. I ignored them, assuming it was someone calling for a political poll. But then it rang again.

I sighed before I picked it up. "Hello?"

"How much work could you possibly— you know what, never mind," Mr. Stark's voice came over the line. "We have a mission tomorrow, and Barnes is hiding away in his room mad at me. So wave your magic wand, we need a sniper asap."

After my initial shock wore off, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was within hearing range. "I'm afraid I left my magic wand at home, Mr. Stark. And I haven't heard from James all week, so I doubt I'd be of much use either."

I heard a large sigh over the line. "Look," Mr. Stark groaned. "I'm sorry, okay? Doesn't mean I don't still hate that article, but we have to get Barnes with us tomorrow. I don't care what it takes, just get it done."

"I'll take a please and thank you," I remarked bluntly.

"You'll get a thank you later. You already got an apology," Mr. Stark stated. I held my breath for a few moments. If he was really that desperate, then it would show.

Then finally, "…please."

I smiled. "I'll do what I can, Mr. Stark."

There was a sharp breath, and then the line cut off. I sat there for a minute, wondering when my life had come to include phone calls from billionaires begging me to cheer up a former assassin. All of this would make for a great story one day, I told myself. I opened up a blank email, my fingers hanging over the keys. I didn't know where to begin, or how to tell him to get better by tomorrow.

Turns out, I didn't have to. An email popped up in my inbox just as I typed the first word.

 **"Dear Eliza,**

 **I need to speak with you. Please meet me at the cafe on the corner of Broadway and Worth. I will be there at 7pm.**

 **Sincerely,**  
 **James"**

* * *

I turned the corner onto Worth Street at 6:55pm. My heart was racing with anxiety as I pulled out my phone to double check I'd gotten the time and location correct. My focus elsewhere, I didn't notice the man in front of me.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," I yelped, immediately bending down to pick up the spilled items from my purse.

The man smiled and waved a hand before he bent down to help me. "Don't worry about it— happens to all of us."

I laughed. "Yeah…you're right…oh shoot," I mumbled. "Phone cracked." I inspected the crack, a hairline that ran across the entirety of the screen. I glanced up at the man, who also was looking at his phone. "Yours didn't get damaged too, did it?"

He looked up at me. "Oh, no, mine is fine. I wasn't looking where I was going," he admitted.

I nodded understandingly. "Same here. I always worry I'll get lost, so I double check wherever I go."

"Yeah…" he trailed off.

A moment passed awkwardly, and I cleared my throat. "Well, um, anyways, sorry for running into you-"

"-no, no, really, it's fine," he interrupted, already beginning to walk away. "You have a good day."

I raised an eyebrow at his suddenly off putting behavior. "You too!" I called out. The man didn't seem to hear me. With a shrug, I continued my journey to the cafe. It didn't take but two seconds for me to realize why James chose this place. From the looks of it, the cafe was a mom-and-pop run establishment, and the majority of the room was taken up by a giant book shelf.

A quick glance around located James in the back corner, sipping on a cup of coffee as he flipped through a book. My heart rate was up again, but I forced my body to move in his direction. I was a few feet away when he finally looked up.

"You're a minute early," he commented idly.

"And you were even earlier," I returned.

A rueful grin came onto his face. "True."

The waitress came, took my order for tea, and left shortly afterward. We were left listening to the background noise of the cafe.

Finally, I decided to speak. "It's been a rough week, hasn't it?"

James' eyes finally met mine. "Steve tell you?"

"Nope," I shook my head. "Tony Stark did."

There was a curious look in his eyes, so I continued. "Called me three times in a row, and when I finally saw that he was ringing, I picked it up. They need you for that mission tomorrow, James," I insisted. "Whatever has been bothering you, you have to put it aside for now. That doesn't mean not dealing with it, but duty calls."

James' eyes shifted to look out the window. "I know."

My eyes softened. "What is it, James? What's been bothering you?"

He shifted uncomfortably, staring down at his coffee. "I feel…I feel like a burden. All I ever do is cause problems. If it wasn't for me, good people would still be alive. If it wasn't for me, Tony and Steve wouldn't have fought. If it wasn't for me-"

"-Steve would be alone," I interrupted.

James shook his head. "He has Sam-"

"But Sam can't fully understand," I countered. "He was a soldier too, yes, but he's not from the 1940's. He's not Steve's best friend. You are irreplaceable to him, just as you are now on the team." His eyes, full of clouded pain, drifted up to meet mine.

I gave him a half smile. "Besides, you think Tony Stark would call me and apologize if he didn't think the Avengers needed you?"

"He apologized?" James asked.

I nodded. "Yes, he did. He also asked me to wave my magic wand to get you back on the team." James chuckled, causing me to smile. "If you ever feel like a burden, James, then think of what you have contributed. Everyone feels like a burden from time to time— how do you think Dr. Banner feels? Miss Romanov has to go out of her way after every fight to calm him down, right?"

"But it's not out of her way," James corrected "She does it because she…" he trailed off, catching my point.

"Because she cares," I finished for him. "Teammates care about each other. When one falls, the rest help them rise again."

His eyes flickered through multiple emotions, but he nodded after a moment. "I…I think I understand."

"Good," I smiled gently. The waitress came by and dropped off my tea, making our conversation pause for a second. I added some cream and sugar before taking a sip. "So…when's your flight back?"

James fumbled with his watch for a second. "Car's coming at eight, I believe. But I don't want to keep you around waiting, I'm sure you have plenty to do-"

I shook my head. "Not so fast, mister. I need a break from work too, sometimes. Have you done your music research yet?"

An embarrassed look came onto his face. "Well…um…"

"You can't read music in a book, James," I teased.

"I'm aware of that," he shot back hastily. "I've just been busy, you know…"

"Brooding?" I filled in. At the mopey look on his face, I laughed. "Here, let me pull out my earbuds. You can take a listen to a few hits from each decade."

For the next thirty minutes, we traded comments on the music, fashion, and social movements of the last four decades of the twentieth century. When we realized he had fifteen minutes to go, he volunteered to walk me back to my apartment. That night, I fell asleep with a grin on my face, recalling the hilarious moment when James said "wait…the Beatles are a who?"


	11. Operation

**Operation**

 _For the next thirty minutes, we traded comments on the music, fashion, and social movements of the last four decades of the twentieth century. When we realized he had fifteen minutes to go, he volunteered to walk me back to my apartment. That night, I fell asleep with a grin on my face, recalling the hilarious moment when James said "wait…the Beatles are a who?"_

"Roosevelt's term finished up in 1945, and was followed by Truman, who finished the war. After him came Eisenhower and Kennedy, then we had Johnson, Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan, older Bush, Clinton, younger Bush, Obama, and now Trump. And after the election next week, we can add another name to the list," I rattled off. It was just past 2pm on Saturday, and because of an extra intel meeting they'd had to attend, I found myself making the lesson shorter due to the lack of time.

"Over the years, the power has been tossed back and forth between the Republicans and the Democrats, like always. They've been pretty stable parties, even though quite a few people thought they'd come to an end and give way for new political parties after the 2016 election."

Steve's head bobbed up and down. "Well," he started with a smile, "it's nice to know that democracy still stands."

I nodded. "Indeed. I'm sure plenty of other countries don't understand how America can stay so stable with constant power shifts— heck, Queen Elizabeth the Second abdicated just last year, and she's been on the throne since 1952."

"That sounds exhausting," James commented lightly.

I snorted as I got up to place my book on the shelf. "I can't imagine it. Most people see the monarchy in England as a pointless relic now, but she still had plenty to do in her job. I'd wanna resign after that many years, too." After making sure the book was in its place, I sat back down on the couch next to James. "FRIDAY, can you find the Buzzfeed video titled 'Social Movements of the 2000's'?" I requested.

"Of course," FRIDAY replied.

"This will give you a brief introduction to what happened the last twenty years in particular," I told them as the introduction played on the screen. "Marches and rallies and protests have grown more common as people find out more about the things they care about. They want their voice to be heard, and this has become the way to do it."

Both James and Steve's head nodded in response to what I said, but I could tell they were already invested in the video. For the next five minutes, they got a crash course in the past two decades, topics ranging from increased environmental protection to the rise of celiac awareness.

"Thoughts?" I asked when the video ended.

"There's too many things to care about," James commented. "No one can support all of these causes all at the same time."

I shrugged. "I mean…I guess there are people that try, and they have their reasons."

Steve was ready to give his input when he got cut off by FRIDAY.

"Mr. Stark has arrived, Captain Rogers. He is headed toward conference room 36-B."

With a sigh, Steve cast me and James a mildly frustrated look. "Guess I have to go. We'll pick this up later, okay?"

"Of course!" I replied. "Go do your thing. I'll be here for a few more hours, so you can come back and catch me if you have any questions."

Steve sent me a grateful smile before he got up and walked out of the room. After a moment, James shifted his attention to me, moving his body to face mine. "So what causes do you support?" he asked curiously.

"The Celiac Disease Foundation, for one," I started. "My mom has it, so I grew up eating gluten free everything. I continue to buy it so the market keeps going for those who need it. I also try to make sure I don't use too much paper at work— we went mostly digital about a year ago, I think. And recycling, of course." I shrugged. "Like you said, it's hard to do everything. Would I like to adopt a dog from the pound or be more conscious of where my clothing comes from? Of course. But most of the time I'm too busy to think about those things."

James nodded. "It seems that if everyone did their part to care about things important to them, then all these problems would be taken care of."

"You'd think," I shrugged. "But there are always more veterans coming home from war, always more puppies being born, and so on and so on."

A wistful look came onto James' face. "I always wanted a dog, but I'd never thought to ask. I assumed they weren't allowed."

An idea popped into my head. "FRIDAY, what is the policy for emotional support animals here?"

"The regulations regarding emotional support animals are the following: all breeds of dogs are allowed, but only if they are properly trained. The care and keeping of the dog will be the sole responsibility of its owner. All emotional support dogs must be registered prior to adoption," FRIDAY responded.

James and I shared a grin.

* * *

"What about a poodle?"

"No, poodles are too stuffy."

"They're cute and fluffy!"

"I want a man's dog, not a walking marshmallow."

"Plenty of men have poodles, James."

"But I don't want one, Eliza."

"Okay fine, then what do you want?"

"What's the type that's black and brown?"

"…that could be a thousand different breeds."

"No, it's very specific. I've used them before on missions, they're good at smelling things."

I squinted my eyes at him, trying to decipher his words. We'd been going back and forth for over an hour. "….do you mean a german shepherd?" I asked.

James typed in the name before he said, "Yes! Those. I like them, they were always fun to play with."

"Hmm…I'm not sure, James," I said as my eyes scrolled down the character traits of the breed. "You'd probably need to get a puppy and train him, and he'd need a lot of attention and time outside. Big dogs like that don't like being cooped up indoors."

"Wouldn't that be a good thing for me?" he countered. "It would force me to get out of my room."

I couldn't help but agree, especially because I'd seen the impact that emotional support animals could have on people. They enforced responsibility, gave friendship, and often served as a reminder to people that they had a reason to live.

I glanced outside at the expanse of grass and trees. "I'm sure they could set up an invisible fence around some area for the dog," I thought out loud. "That would make sure he'd have a safe place to run around."

James' face screwed up in confusion. "What's an invisible fence?"

"It's an electric fence put in the ground," I explained. "Your dog wears a collar that is connected to the fence. If it tries to leave the area you have fenced, then it gets a small electric shock."

James' face darkened immediately. "I don't like the sound of that. I'd rather train him. Or have a normal fence."

Unwittingly, my hand reached out and patted his shoulder. "I understand. I'm sure they'd be happy to set up a fence for him— and who knows? Maybe other people will consider getting pets too! Then he'd have friends to play with!"

"I like the sound of that," James murmured, his eyes staring out at the trees. He got up from the couch and went over to the window. After a moment, I followed suit to see what caught his attention. He leaned down close to me and pointed to an area a short walk away.

"Over there- by the tree line. Do you think that'd be a good place for them?" he questioned.

I was distracted by his nearness, not used to him being less than a foot close to me. "I think so, yeah," I answered after a moment's consideration. "You'd just have to get it approved."

A grin appeared on James' face. "With your approval, I think they'll let me do anything."

"Glad I can help," I laughed. I looked across the field and noticed the way the sunlight was passing through the trees. Leaves had been falling off for weeks now, and I was sure they'd all be gone within the next few weeks. Christmas would be coming before we knew it, along with a new president in the new year.

I glanced to my left and saw James staring out at the field in contemplation. After a moment, he softly said, "Thank you, Eliza. I'm not sure how fast we can get one, but I'm looking forward to getting a dog. I think it'll really help."

A genuine smile came onto my face. "You're welcome, James. I think it'll help, too."

His attention turned to me, and I found myself admiring the way the golden sunlight reflected in his blue eyes. My eyes momentarily flickered down to his lips, but I forced myself to look back up at his eyes. I struggled to resist the strange tugging sensation that was pushing me toward him. I was there to help him. Nothing more.

James' head tilted. "Eliza…can I ask you something?"

A rush of adrenaline ran through my head. "What?" I swallowed.

James opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off.

Alarms were sounding throughout the compound.


	12. Trepidation

**Trepidation**

 _James' head tilted. "Eliza…can I ask you something?"_

 _A rush of adrenaline ran through my head. "What?" I swallowed._

 _James opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off._

 _Alarms were sounding throughout the compound._

Our heads turned at the same time. The tree line— a serene view not two minutes ago— was clouded by thick grey smoke. But that wasn't what we noticed.

"Get down!" James shouted, pushing me to the ground. My face met the carpet, and he fell to cover me with his body. I screamed when bullets shattered the glass.

"FRIDAY, shield the windows now!" James ordered over the gunfire.

"Initiating defense measures!" FRIDAY replied. A metal barrier slammed down over the shattered window, shielding us from the relentless rain of bullets.

"Come on!" James commanded, pulling me up from the ground to follow him. The bullets didn't stop, but neither did the metal covers. They slammed down over the windows, one after another, clanging loudly through the chaos.

Unfortunately, one wasn't fast enough.

I screamed when the bullet pierced my calf, hitting the ground hard. James cursed under his breath, stopping just long enough to pick me up and keep going. My nails dug deep into my hand in an attempt to keep myself from whimpering in pain.

He ran down the hall to his room, threw open the door, and set me down on his bed. The windows had already been blocked by metal, but I could hear the battle outside. I ground my teeth together in agony, watching as he scrambled around his room searching for something. James ran out of his closet a moment later, an old t-shirt in hand.

"Press this to the wound, it'll stop it from bleeding," he insisted. "…too much," he added under his breath. He stepped away and rummaged through his bedside drawer. His hand pulled out a roll of medical tape. He prepared to wrap the t-shirt in place, but I stopped his hand.

"James, you have to go out and help," I told him. "I can do it on my own."

I watched as a thousand different emotions ran through his eyes. Fear was the most prevalent. He took in a shaky breath, his eyes flickering around the room. His stare fixated on the metal barricades. "The moment I leave this room, I'll give the command for the door to be locked. No one will get in, you'll be safe. I'll come back for you when it's over. **Don't** leave," he said, his tone more pleading than commanding.

I nodded seriously. "I won't."

"Good," he swallowed, eyes finally turning back to me. Our gazes locked, and I could see his hesitancy. But after a moment, it solidified into determination. Both hands fisted, he got up from the bed and strolled out of the room, shoulders locked in anger.

"FRIDAY, lock the door. No one gets in unless I say so," he ground out.

"Yes, Sargent Barnes."

The metal covering slammed over the door. Silence filled the room, but I could still hear the echoes of fighting. Machine guns, rockets, explosions. All things I'd written about before, but none that I'd ever actually heard. I wrapped my leg as fast as I could, my heart racing. After a few times around my leg, I tore the tape and secured it. The bullet in my leg was still searing, but I knew I'd have to ride out the pain until the battle was over.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, listening. That's all I could do. I couldn't help, I couldn't fight. I just had to sit and listen and worry about what was going on. Were they okay? Who invaded the base? How'd they find it? When the noises stopped, when the chaos finally ceased, I looked over at the clock on James' nightstand. Thirty minutes had passed.

I waited anxiously, watching the clock as the minutes ticked by. Two…three…five…ten…and he hadn't returned. Visions of James lying wounded on the ground filled my head, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get rid of them. Just as I considered limping to the door, the metal covering slid away, and the door opened.

James entered, his battered armor covered in dirt and a bloodstained rip on his right shoulder. I took in a sharp breath, but he held up his hand as he kneeled in front of me.

"Don't freak out, it's just a scratch," he stated calmly.

I nodded, a terrified shudder running through my entire body as I stared into his eyes. His left hand came up and smoothed my hair behind my ear. "Breathe in…breathe out," he whispered. "I know you've never been through this. Try to calm down. Everyone is okay, just a few scrapes. The danger is gone."

My eyes squeezed shut, trying to concentrate on his voice. It was gentle, soothing in the midst of the overwhelming anxiety. He repeated his instructions to breathe five more times before I could open my eyes.

He nodded encouragingly. "There you go. How's the pain?"

My eyes turned to the makeshift bandage on my leg. It was stained a gruesome scarlet.

James' eyes followed my own, and a deep frown fell onto his face. "You need to get that out— now." Before I could agree, he picked me up and strode out of the room. He walked quickly, maneuvering us in and out of the clusters of agents still running through the halls. We arrived in the hospital wing, only to find that it too was chaotic.

"We need a medic!" James called, setting me down on an empty bed.

Among the chaos in the room, Dr. Banner's head lifted. Recognition flickered through his eyes before he fought his way through the crowd toward us.

"What happened?" he demanded, unwrapping my handiwork as fast as he could.

James' jaw clenched. "Barricades didn't cover the windows fast enough— I was trying to get her somewhere safe, and a bullet got her leg."

Dr. Banner nodded, then made eye contact with me. "Any known allergies? Troubles with anesthesia?" he questioned hurriedly.

"No, none," I shook my head.

"Good," he nodded. "Because I gotta knock you out for this."

Before I could react, James had gone to stand between me and Dr. Banner. "You don't know how it could hurt her! You are not going to-"

"Listen, it's either that or she's awake while I pull a bullet out of her!" Dr. Banner shouted back. "She's a civilian! She's not trained to deal with pain like you and me. So unless you want this wound to get infected, then I suggest you get out of my way."

James stood still.

"James," I whispered. His head turned only slightly, keeping his eyes on Dr. Banner. "James, listen to me. I've had anesthesia before, I'll be fine. Let him do it."

An agonizing moment passed before he finally moved aside. Dr. Banner nodded gratefully at me before he ran over to get supplies. He brought back an IV, and I sucked in a sharp breath as he set up the needle.

"Don't worry, you'll be out before you know it," he told me quickly. "You won't feel a thing."

I nodded, though I knew my eyes were wide with fear. Seconds later, the needle was slipped into my skin.

But the next moment, the door slammed open to reveal a shaken Mr. Coulson. The noise in the room dropped to complete silence.

He held up an all too familiar object. "Whose purse is this?" he demanded. "We found a tracking device in it. So whose is it?"

The last thing I saw was James' disbelieving look in my direction.


	13. Situation

**Situation**

 _I nodded, though I knew my eyes were wide with fear. Seconds later, the needle was slipped into my skin._

 _But the next moment, the door slammed open to reveal a shaken Mr. Coulson. The noise in the room dropped to complete silence._

 _He held up an all too familiar object. "Whose purse is this?" he demanded. "We found a tracking device in it. So whose is it?"_

 _The last thing I saw was James' disbelieving look in my direction._

Voices were all I could hear. Random voices, some of which I thought I recognized. But my eyelids were heavy, and there was a stinging pain slowly rising in my leg. Minutes passed before I was able to get my eyes open, but when I did, I immediately shut them again. The lights were blinding.

"You mean to tell me that you didn't check if her computer was linked to a secure network?" a familiar, cocky voice demanded. "And all this time, she's been communicating with Rogers and Barnes multiple times a week?"

There was a sigh, followed by a factual voice. "We didn't think to check—"

"Oh, you didn't think to check? Well that's convenient, especially now that they know the exact location of our base because they were able to read when and where she'd be on a coffee date!"

There was the sound of a door slamming shut.

"Stark, that's enough. What's done is done, now we have to move elsewhere. We're gonna need a new location."

"You can't seriously mean—"

"I'm always serious, Stark. We have to use it. It's our only option."

"I don't know if you're aware of this, _Agent_ , but that place hasn't been used in years- decades, even. All it is now is a makeshift lab for your little science team."

"Which is why we have to go there. No one knows about it-"

"Until they do because of another accident. And then what? We fly to Mars?"

Silence.

"What about Eliza?"

This voice was close to me. It was warm, reassuring, but tainted with concern.

"She will have to come with us."

"She can't be expected to just pack up and leave. This isn't her problem…it's not her fault this happened."

"She doesn't have much of a choice. They know about her now. Leaving her in New York is waiting for someone to pull the trigger."

At those words, I found the strength to open my eyes. I was no longer in the chaotic infirmary, but instead in a white and grey room. At the foot of my bed stood Tony Stark and Mr. Coulson, both of whom looked like they'd had a rough day. To my left, James was seated in a chair with his back hunched.

All heads turned to look at me as I gained my bearings. I blinked a few times, my vision still blurry. After a few moments, things became clear, and I noticed something that I had never heard on base before.

The humming of engines.

Panicked, I immediately tried to sit up.

"Eliza, calm down," James whispered, gently taking my shoulders and lowering me back against the pillows. "You're okay, you're safe. We had to…relocate. The base was compromised."

I swallowed hard, heart beating fast. "The tracker- my purse- I, I don't know how-"

"We checked all the tapes," Stark cut in, coming forward to rest his hands on the end of the bed. "Wednesday- the guy you bumped into before you met Barnes? A plant. While you were busy getting your stuff off the ground, he snuck the tracker into your purse."

My eyes widened, tears clouding them. "What- wait, how- how did they know who I was?"

Mr. Coulson shared a regretful look with Stark. "The emails," Mr. Coulson sighed. "The network at your office and home weren't secure…they got in, figured out your connection to us, and tracked you down."

Silence reigned over the room. My heart was pounding, my breathing was growing shallow, and my head felt light. I'm not sure when Stark or Mr. Coulson left, all I know was that James was there again, telling me to breathe in and breathe out.

Finally, I was able to say, "Where am I?"

"You're on the helicarrier," he said slowly. "It's like a flying base. It's taking us to a new location right now."

I nodded shakily. "And me?"

James sighed. "You have to come, too. It wouldn't be safe back there. I'm sorry."

At that moment, my life felt like it was crumbling apart. One day I was writing about the election, the next I had a target on my back. I was so lost in my thoughts, I hardly heard James speak.

"I insisted they get your stuff before we left," he told me. "You'll have a room near mine. You won't feel like you're on a ship, trust me."

"And my family?"

"Under close watch. No one will even get close."

"My work?"

"Notified that you were on sick leave after a freak car accident."

"My apartment?"

"The lease was put on hold."

I took in a deep breath. "Okay."

James leveled me with a steady gaze. "Eliza, you're not going to accept it that fast. It's going to take time. It's okay to feel scared, to have your doubts. We'll do all that we can to get you out of this, I promise."

A sardonic laugh escaped from my lips. "I don't remember our positions being switched."

A smile emerged on his face. "Sometimes they have to."

My eyes drifted down to my leg, where a new wrapping had been set in place. My thoughts idled back to before all this happened, to sitting in my room with James looking at pictures of dogs. I felt my heart wilt in sadness.

"I-" I started, but my throat felt tight. "I'm sorry you can't get your dog now."

I felt a familiar hand tuck my hair behind my ear. I turned to look back, and saw eyes filled with sympathy. "It's okay, Eliza," he smiled. "A dog can wait. Your safety can't."

I managed a small smile back. "So…" I trailed off. "When can I walk again?"

"Right now," James answered. "One of the doctors— Dr. Cho, I think— rebuilt your cells after Banner took the bullet out. It might feel a little strange at first, but that should go away."

Curious, I began to sit up slowly. After a few moments, I moved my legs to swing over the side of the bed. James put a metal hand on my back to steady me, offering his other arm to help me stand up.

"Slowly, Eliza," he murmured. "Don't push it."

"I'll push it all I want," I retorted childishly. I heard James snort before he shook his head. We made our way out of the room together, and I slowly gained my balance as we kept walking. I didn't care enough to try to memorize where we were going— all the hallways looked the same, anyways, and James kept a guiding hand on my back to make sure I didn't wander.

It felt like it took forever, but we finally arrived at the room James said was mine. "They told me that our doors are opened by a DNA scan," he said with uncertainty. "Your door will only open to those you allow. Coulson said you can talk to him about who you want on that list."

I nodded, noticing the almost shy look on his face. He was worried he wouldn't be allowed. "I'll make sure you're on the list," I promised. A light lit in his eyes, and I found myself thinking that I'd never seen more hope in anyone before.

"Eliza!"

James and I turned around at the same time. Steve was approaching, a relieved smile on his face.

"Glad to see you're doing better," he acknowledged. "I'm sorry about, well, everything."

I shrugged. "Stuff happens. I'm glad to know that all of you are okay."

"We sure are," he nodded. His eyes flickered between James and me. "You find your rooms?"

I nodded. "Yeah, James helped me get down here. Anesthesia left me a little woozy."

"Right…" Steve trailed off. I couldn't help but notice there was something weird in his tone, along with the small grin on his face. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Don't get too comfortable- Coulson says we'll be landing in two days."

"And where are we landing?" I questioned as the Captain began to walk away.

He turned back and grinned. "Ireland."


	14. Destination

**Destination**

 _"Right…" Steve trailed off. I couldn't help but notice there was something weird in his tone. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Don't get too comfortable, though- Coulson says we'll be landing in two days."_

 _"And where are we landing?" I questioned as the Captain began to walk away._

 _He turned back and grinned. "Ireland."_

Two days passed in episodes of getting lost, follow up appointments, and sorting through boxes of my belongings. Fifteen minutes before we landed, I was staring out the windows with plenty of people beside me. Through the clouds, I was could see the lush green fields of Ireland, and beyond it, our destination: Dunluce Castle.

"Tell me, Mr. Stark- is there anything you _don't_ own?" I queried.

"The list is small, Lizzie," the billionaire droned. "And please, call me Tony. 'Mr.' makes me feel like I'm your grandpa or something."

I snorted, but let it drop. The remains of the castle loomed in the distance, but I could look at it later. I had packing to finish. I arrived at my room just in time to find James sitting on the floor with a marker and a single box.

"I could've finished it myself, you know," I commented with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm aware," he replied. He finished writing my name on the box before a crew member came in and took it. "But you wanted to look at the view, and I had nothing else to do."

I laughed softly, taking a moment to inspect the room one last time. As Steve had advised, I hadn't gotten comfortable. All my boxes were about to be moved to a new room at the temporary base, anyways. There wasn't much of a point.

James and I looked up when an announcement bell rang throughout the comm system.

"All passengers, prepare for landing. We will be disembarking after a preliminary security sweep of the grounds."

"That would be me," James sighed as he got up from the floor. "Better go get suited up- don't get lost while I'm gone."

I smiled at the teasing tone in his voice. "I'll try not to." James gave me a smile before we parted ways. I followed the crowd to the main deck exit. From there, I watched out the window as Iron Man and War Machine circled the compound from above. Below them, the rest of the team was spread out on the ground, checking the abandoned castle for any signs of danger.

"Area's clear," Steve's voice came over the comm. "I suggest using the boats to dispatch groups one at a time."

"Agreed. All passengers report to your assigned carrier," Mr. Coulson's voice echoed throughout the helicarrier.

Anxiety gripped me suddenly. As far as I knew, I didn't have an assigned carrier. I glanced around for a familiar face in the crowd, but couldn't see anyone.

"Miss Reynolds!" a shout came from my left.

I turned and saw a blonde woman in work clothes. She came over and smiled. "Hi, my name is Sharon Carter. You'll be with me." I nodded wordlessly, deciding that following her would be my best bet. She led me through the crowd to an elevator, pushed a few buttons, and motioned for me to follow her in. The doors shut behind us, and I felt the elevator descending.

"So…" she started lightly. "Steve's told me all about you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you know him too?"

She laughed. "I think everyone knows him. But yes, I guess you could say I know him better than some."

I ran the name through my head again. Sharon Carter…why did that sound familiar? When I couldn't place it, I decided to reply to her statement. "Yeah, I guess so. He's been a good student. He's always interested in the history lessons, even though sometimes it was harder for him to hear about the wars. I guess he thinks he can save everyone."

"I wouldn't say that," she disagreed. The doors opened onto a lower deck, and she cast me a glance. "He knows he can't save everyone, but he still feels like it's his duty to try."

I tried to cover up the confused look in my eyes. She seemed to know Steve incredibly well for a random crew member. I followed her onto the carrier, trying to pick up on her body language. She was confident, but not proud. Intelligent, but didn't feel the need to boast about it. She also was very good at holding in her emotions.

We sat down beside each other on the carrier, taking the time to snap our seat belts in place. I watched as other crew members boarded, attempting to look natural. "So, you and Steve are…" I trailed off, giving her the opportunity to fill in the blank. "…friends?"

Sharon sighed, but gave me a smile. "If you want an answer on that, ask him."

So it was complicated, then. Probably an on and off romance that never got enough traction. I couldn't imagine how difficult it must be to handle any sort of relationship in this kind of environment. An image of James flitted through my mind, but I pushed it aside. I was just there to help.

The ride went as expected. The takeoff from the helicarrier was gentle, as was the descent down to an empty field on the west side of the castle. When we touched the ground, Clint Barton was there to open the door and escort us to the ruins of the castle. We were about twenty feet from the exterior walls when he turned around.

"Alright, listen up!" he called. "I'm not repeating myself. Most of you are not gonna like how we get in the base, but suck it up. You're either in there or out here. And I'd hate to be the poor soul staring down a gun in the middle of nowhere," he chuckled.

Clint Barton motioned to the wall. "This stone wall has been retrofitted with the scan tech you all are used to- the ones we use to get in doors and crap. Thanks to Dr. Foster, however, there's been a bit of an upgrade. Agent Carter, if you will."

Sharon cast me an unsurprised look before she walked through the crowd and past Clint Barton. She stood before the old stone wall and waited. I heard a distinct pinging noise before she walked forward. Then, she was gone.

Murmurs of apprehension ran throughout the crowd, but I was fascinated. I'd heard about Dr. Foster's latest research, but I'd never imagined she would've completed it so soon.

Clint Barton turned to the crowd with an amused smile. "Alright, get moving. I've got another carrier coming in five minutes and I'm not waiting."

A single file line formed, and I was soon in front of the wall. A few dreadful seconds of silence passed before I heard the pinging noise. What followed, I can only describe as a wind tunnel filled with static electricity before my feet met solid ground. When my eyes looked up, I was shocked.

I'd been moved underneath the castle. The old pillars, catacombs and dungeons gave it away, but what I really noticed was the amount of technology spread around the giant facility. Units of people were hauling large crates, screens were being drilled into the walls, and sparks of electricity flew into the air every few seconds.

I managed to get myself off the pad before someone else came through, but my musings were interrupted by a man in jeans and a sweater.

"Miss Reynolds, pleasure to meet you. I'm Ian, the, ah, assistant to Dr. Foster's assistant," he explained with an embarrassed laugh. "They told me to show you around? We've been working here for a little over a year, so I'm familiar with it, don't worry," he rambled.

I held out my hand to shake his. "I'm sure you can't get more lost than I usually do."

Ian laughed again. "Yeah, let's hope not. So…ah, where do you wanna start?"

"Wherever you think is best," I conceded.

"Right," he swallowed. "Probably the dining hall is a good place to start. Do you need to look at the labs? They didn't really tell me what you do."

A small smile came onto my face. "How about you just give me the general locations of everything? That way, if I need to hunt someone down, I know where to find them."

My comment made Ian look concerned, but he just shrugged and continued onward. The tour took about two hours, and it was only fifteen minutes in when I started wondering where I could get a map. My mind felt like it was burning from information overload, but I didn't want to make Ian feel bad. He was just doing his job.

"…and here we have your place! They transferred the scan data from your room on the helicarrier, so again, only you and the people on your list can come in…" he trailed off as he pulled up a diagram on the tablet. His eyes widened, and he turned the screen for me to see. "So…you, ah, are you an Avenger, too?" he asked curiously.

I looked at the diagram and saw what prompted his question. My room was surrounded by every other superhero's room, particularly set between Steve and James. Upon closer inspection, the list of persons allowed in my room mirrored James'. The list read "James Barnes, Steve Rogers, Elizabeth Reynolds."

I smiled and handed the tablet back to Ian. "No, I'm not. I just work with them."

Ian nodded, but his eyes still showed a trace of fear. "Oh, ah, okay. Well, I'll be around, you know, in the area, so let me know if you need anything," he stuttered before he made his exit.

With an amused smile on my face, I entered my room. It was equipped with what I found to be the typical furniture they supplied— a queen bed, a nightstand, a dresser with a tv above it, and a chair. All my boxes were stacked neatly in one corner, and upon further inspection, I found a standard bathroom and closet. It weirdly felt like I was back in a dorm at college.

I noticed the grey walls and put a hand to them. "FRIDAY? Are you there?"

I was met with silence. A frown settled on my face. I hadn't realized how much I'd come to rely on the trusty AI. Suddenly, the lack of natural sunlight hit me, and claustrophobia set in. I took in a steadying breath before I walked over to the boxes. After some searching, I found an empty notebook and pen. A destination in mind, I walked out of my room.


	15. Interpretation

**Interpretation**

 _I was met with silence. A frown settled on my face. I hadn't realized how much I'd come to rely on the trusty AI. The lack of natural sunlight hit me, and claustrophobia set in. I took in a steady breath before I walked over to the boxes. After some searching, I found an empty notebook and pen. A destination in mind, I walked out of my room._

O're years, the mighty castle stood,  
In battles of nations and of sainthood.  
But the earth shook, and the waves take  
What mere men o're centuries make.

My pencil tapped against the old stone, unsure of what to write next. It was the third stanza I'd written, and I was a little rusty when it came to poetry. I'd picked a spot on the north side of the castle. The sea stood before me, its waves being whipped around by the cold early November wind. I wanted to go back and grab a thicker coat, but the fear of claustrophobia kept me outside. It was too dark down there, and though the sun had already begun to set, I wanted to enjoy every last minute of it.

I cast my mind back to a study abroad trip I had taken my sophomore year of college. We'd learned about several castles, but hadn't had the chance to see this one. The only reason I remembered this castle was because it was often thought to be C. S. Lewis' inspiration for Cair Paravel, the royal palace of Narnia.

I turned to look up at the ruined turrets and crumbling cathedral walls, trying to imagine what it must have been like all those years ago. It certainly didn't look worthy of inspiring such a story. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine it.

Visions of banquets, coronations, and battles filled my head. I opened my eyes and could see it clearly. Lovers meeting behind the eastern wall in the garden. Kings being crowned in the central cathedral. Knights fighting their way to victory across the bridge. All of the visions faded quickly when I saw James making his way through the ruins. In his hand was one of my coats.

"Do you have a death wish, Eliza?" he questioned as he approached.

I shrugged. "I saw them put up the shield an hour ago. I figured I'm safe out here."

"Not that- I meant the cold," James corrected. His eyes were chastising as he handed me my coat. As soon as I'd put it on, he was holding out gloves as well.

I shook my head. "I can't hold my pencil with those on."

"Too bad," he retorted, taking my pencil and notebook and setting them to the side. "I'm surprised they're not already numb."

I grumbled, but took the gloves and put them on. My eyes watched James as he sat down next to me, looking out at the sea. His left hand went to pick up the notebook again, but he paused.

"May I read it?" James requested.

I felt insecurity sweep through my body. "Wait- I- I'm not-" I stuttered. "I'm not done writing yet. It needs one more stanza."

James offered me the notebook and pencil, which I gladly accepted. I looked down at my poem, aware that he was trying to sneak glances at the page. After minutes of writing, erasing, and rewording, I cleared my throat and turned to look at him.

"I haven't written this kind of stuff in a while, so bear with me," I admitted awkwardly.

A small smile came onto James' face. "I'm sure it's better than anything I could write." His comment made me grin, and I found myself having a little more confidence than before.

"Built on foundation of cliffs,  
she stood tall, ignorant to all amiss.  
Her owners changed from time to time,  
Claiming their palace, in its prime.

No man could undo her creation,  
Though it was doomed to damnation.  
She was strong, unmoving,  
The forces of men reproving.

O're years, the mighty castle stood,  
Through battles of nations and of sainthood.  
But the earth shook, and the waves take  
What mere men o're centuries make."

I took in a shaky breath, the last stanza burning on the page before me. But a gloved hand moved to tuck my hair behind my ear, and I mustered up the courage to continue.

"Now in ruin she lay,  
Her shell abandoned to decay.  
But may she protect her people as before,  
As she stands again in the midst of war."

I closed the book and stared out at the setting sun. I could hear James sigh, but I didn't look back at him. Instead, I felt his hand reach to gently grasp mine.

"We'll get this over with as soon as we can," he whispered. "I promise."

I turned my head, and our eyes met. I could see how earnest he was, how genuine his hope for peace was. A warm feeling washed through me, and a smile managed its way onto my lips. "I hope so."

James smiled back before he turned his attention to the castle. After a moment of contemplation, his curious voice cut through the silence. "What brought you out here in the first place?"

"My room felt claustrophobic," I sighed. "There aren't any windows. I felt…well-"

"-trapped," he finished, and I nodded in affirmation. "I'll ask around if there are any safe places with windows for you to go. I don't like the idea of you wandering around up here by yourself."

I snorted lightly. "You seemed to find me just fine."

"True," James agreed. "But before I did, hardly anyone knew where you were."

"Oops," I cringed. "Sorry if I caused problems. I just kinda wanted to explore a bit."

An amused look came onto his face. "And what did you find?"

I swung my legs around and stood up from the stone wall, immediately noticing the absence of his hand. "You're gonna need some imagination," I said, motioning for him to follow me. He got up from the stone wall, a smile slowly growing on his face.

I lead him over to the central part of the castle. It was rectangular in shape, and the stone floor was covered in patches of grass. "This was the great hall," I explained as he looked around. "It's where all the big events were held- christenings, coronations, weddings, banquets. Over here is where the dais would be located- basically, a stage for any special guests or for the hosts themselves. The further back you were seated from the dais, the less important you were. At least, that's how most medieval castles were set up. There's no perfect format, but you get the idea."

"Huh," James murmured. "Didn't know that."

I shrugged. "Most people don't. It's not common knowledge unless you take courses in it at college, or do a study abroad like I did."

He nodded absentmindedly. "Did they have parties here, too?"

"Yup, that's what a banquet is," I answered with a grin. "Just a really fancy party."

James smiled now, his eyes taking in the massive stone walls around him. "We used to dance," he reminisced. "It was a big social thing. Everyone would get together, someone would get a band to play music, and we'd try to forget about the war."

I hummed as I leaned against the wall, watching as James' eyes seemed to go back in time. "People still do that today. Having fun, ignoring the bad in the world…" I trailed off. "It's how most people keep going. They need a break from it all."

All of the sudden, James turned around and offered his hand. His sunlit eyes saw my confused expression, and he smiled. "Come on, I'll show you. I think we both need a break right now."

Hesitantly, I placed my gloved hand in his. It didn't occur to me that the hand was metal, that it had been used for things unimaginable. At that moment, it was gentle, holding mine as he instructed me how to move. "Now place your other hand on my shoulder— a little more to the right. Follow me, and you'll get the hang of it. It's not that hard."

"Says the one who was born during the swing era," I teased.

A genuine laugh burst out of James' mouth. "That's true, that's very true," he chuckled. "I'll go easy on you."

It took a few tries before we found our rhythm. I made some missteps and put my foot where it didn't belong at least ten times, but he was patient. As the sun sank down and made way for the moon and stars, we continued to dance, the thought of danger far far away.

* * *

Hello all! Like I said at the beginning, I don't typically do author's notes. I find them distracting from the actual story, but I wanted your opinion on something. There have been many lovely reviews left, and I found myself wanting to reply to them. Let me know if you'd be fine with me replying to reviews at the beginning of each chapter. Also, feel free to message me if you ever have any questions or comments!


	16. Installation

**Installation**

FanGirlForever19: Thank you for leaving multiple reviews! Getting them in one after another really made my day, and I'm so glad you're loving the story!

NileyFreakk: Your review is entirely on point. The growing amount of care for each other + showing different sides of Bucky has been incredibly fun to do!

* * *

 _It took a few tries before we found our rhythm. I made some missteps and put my foot where it didn't belong at least ten times, but he was patient. As the sun sank down and made way for the moon and stars, we continued to dance, the thought of danger far far away._

"Still, you should have told me! The hospital called, and all of us were worried sick!"

"I know, mom, I know," I replied as I hefted a box into the bathroom. "They just did what they're supposed to do. I wasn't exactly in the position to call."

My mother sighed over the line. "I understand. I've just been worried about you, lately. You've been working so hard on all the election coverage, and we've hardly heard from you."

I sat down on the end of my bed and paused to look at the grey walls. I had been halfway through unpacking when they came and brought me a phone. They said I could call my family, that the line was secure, but that I would only be able to speak to them this once for the next while. They couldn't risk the call being traced.

Tears welling up in my eyes, I swallowed hard. "I know. I'm sorry I've been so busy. Sometimes life just…happens that way."

"Well, maybe now that you can't work for a few weeks, we could come and see you?" my mother suggested. "It's been a while since I've been to New York, anyways. We could bring your brother, make sure you get taken care of-"

"Mom, really, I'll be fine," I stressed. "The car accident wasn't that bad, it was just a bigger fracture than usual in my femur. Two weeks, and I'll be out."

I could almost hear her worry growing. "But don't you need someone to take care of you? To help you get back to your apartment?"

My mouth went dry as my mind scrambled to think of an excuse. Before I could, however, there was a knock at the door, and James was entering my room. I motioned for him to keep silent, and he nodded.

An answer suddenly popped into my head. "Don't worry, mom. A friend's taking care of me."

"A friend? Who?"

I had to bite my tongue when I noticed the way James was trying to act like he wasn't listening. "A new friend, you don't know him."

"Oh, so it's a he, hm?"

A laugh burst out of my mouth before I could stop it. "Shut up, mom. Don't start on this again," I joked.

"Eliza, you are twenty five years old and haven't been on a proper date in two years! You need to stop-"

"-focusing on my career so much, I know," I finished. It wasn't the first time I'd heard those words. "I'll try to get out more, okay?"

"Good! Do you think you'll make it for Thanksgiving?"

My throat suddenly felt tight, and I took in a sharp breath. James looked at me in concern, but I motioned for him to stay quiet.

"I…" my voice trailed off. "I'm not sure. The doctor said recovery time could last longer than we initially thought."

My mother sighed. "Honey, are you sure you don't want us to-"

"Yes, mom, I'm sure," I interrupted. "I'll be there for Christmas, I promise." James' eyes suddenly turned sympathetic, and he made his way to sit beside me.

"Okay, Eliza. You get better soon, now, alright?" my mother requested. "Don't go jumping out of a plane or anything."

A small chuckle came out of my throat. "I'll try not to. I love you, mom. Tell dad I said hi."

"I will. I love you too, Eliza."

A shuddered breath left my lips as the line cut. I could feel his worried gaze on me, but I couldn't look. I knew the tears would start falling. I heard him take in a breath to speak, but he stopped himself, opting instead to reach out his metal hand. I placed my hand in his and shut my eyes.

I'd never really considered it before, the feeling of living metal on my skin. I let my thumb smooth over the seams, marveling at how oddly human it was. Almost like scars. The feeling of cool metal began to set my mind at ease. I vaguely wondered how he'd gotten through it. How he dealt with the pain. A part of me wondered why they'd needed me in the first place. Sure, he had his problems, but he was by no means a worst case scenario. So why did they choose me?

"…just wanted to make sure you were okay."

My eyes opened, and I found myself trying to process what he'd said. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine."

He leveled me with a steady look. "Eliza-"

"I said I will be," I cut him off. "Not that I am. There's a difference."

"I know," he murmured. "I'm just making sure that _you_ know. Don't rush it, take the time to deal with your emotions in the present, not down the road."

A sardonic grin settled on my face. "I thought I was the psych major, here."

James shrugged, getting up from the bed. "Don't have to be a psych major to gain experience."

Knowing his background, I could only nod in agreement.

* * *

Two hours later, I was walking down the hall with Ian. All of the crew had been split up into different locations for a debriefing. Given my non-Avenger status, I wasn't allowed to go with James, though both he and Steve had protested vocally about it.

"So where are we going?" I asked, jogging to keep up with Ian's long strides.

"Non-combatants meeting," he replied quickly. "We're not the ones out on the field, but they still need us."

I nodded in response, but found myself confused. What was my purpose in being here? If I was just a target, then why did I need to come to this meeting? A minute later, we were taking our seats in a room filled mostly with doctors, scientists, and administrative specialists. I felt awkward, finding that, as expected, I didn't fit into any of those categories.

A man I recognized as Dr. Selvig entered the room, shuffled his way up to the front, and set his coffee cup down on the precarious angle of a metal podium. "Alright, everyone, take your seats. This might take a while," he grumbled.

Everyone did as they were told, much to the approval of Dr. Selvig.

"Thank you. Because of the attack on the Avengers Facility, we have, as you probably already know, begun to calculate counter measures."

"And against whom are these counter measures being formed?" an young looking doctor asked. "I believe we have a right to know why we were relocated."

Dr. Selvig fixed the man with a bored expression. "Look mister I-have-a-degree, we get that everyone's upset. You've been called into this meeting to get the information you just ever so eloquently requested, so if you can possibly refrain from asking your questions until the end, I would be incredibly grateful."

I found myself smiling at Dr. Selvig's comeback. He reminded me of a professor I once had, and he already looked like he'd had enough of this. I sat back, ready to find some amusement in his demeanor, when I heard something I didn't expect.

"I was told that someone by the name of…" he trailed off, pulling a crumpled sheet of paper from his shirt pocket. "…uh, Elizabeth Reynolds?"

My heart felt like it'd been shot with a lethal dose of electricity. Ian cast me a confused look, which didn't ease my worry. I stood up shakily, holding up my hand.

Dr. Selvig's eyes brightened. "Ah, yes, you! Come up here, they told me I'd need some help with the details, and, ah…you're apparently the person for that."

One step in front of another, I slowly made my way up to the front of the room. At the old facility, I was just another person passing through. Here, I could feel everybody's eyes on me.

It was almost as though he could sense my nervousness, because Dr. Selvig gave me a wink and whispered, "Don't worry, you'll be fine." After I nodded, he fished a marker out of his pocket, turned around, and began to write letters on the board. I recognized them immediately, my eyes widening in horror.

"They're called A.I.M.," Dr. Selvig stated factually, drawing a line under the acronym for emphasis. "They were a part of HYDRA-"

"I thought we already finished HYDRA off?" the young doctor interrupted.

Dr. Selvig's shift in stance told me he was about to mouth the man off again, but I spoke before he could. "To the ignorant bystander, yes, they seem like the same thing. But they're far from the same," I warned.

At Dr. Selvig's nod, I continued, taking in a deep breath. "They were together…once. But after the war, problems started to show, political differences got in the way, and they split. A.I.M. became its own organization, filled mostly with scientists."

I took the marker from Dr. Selvig and drew a timeline on the board, marking 1960 as the beginning date and adding the phrase "seceded from HYDRA" under it.

"They kept quiet for a while, setting up bases on nearly every continent, acting like the good guys," I said, making a space between 1960 and 2001. "But all this time, their scientists became more and more crooked. Some of the worst psychological case studies in history were caused by these guys, but no one knew about it for so long. Stanford Prison experiment in '71? Funded by them. A test to see how far humans would go under pressure."

"Before long, they were dealing with subversive governments, and then-" I paused, marking 2001 clearly. "9/11. They'd been dealing under the table with terrorists for years, and it finally came to fruition. NATO tried to track them down, but it was too hard. They were everywhere and nowhere all at once. Every time our guys stormed a base, it'd be empty. They'd vanished without a trace."

"Until now," Dr. Selvig finished. "That's why we need you guys. Wherever they go, they leave a trace of promethium, one of just two stable elements with radioactive isotopes. From this moment on, all scientists concentrate on tracking their trail. We don't need them destabilizing that promethium anytime soon. Everyone else, if you have a background in science, you are more than welcome to help. If not, get back to your usual jobs and get ready. We've got a storm comin'."

A moment of silence passed before people started to file out, one by one. Dr. Selvig patted me on the arm. "Thanks, kid. I always had a hard time remembering all that."

Dazed, I simply nodded. I must have stood there for a full minute before I was able to get my wits together and start toward the door. My hand had just reached the handle when I heard my name.

"Miss Reynolds, another minute."

I turned to see none other than Mr. Coulson. How I'd missed him was beyond me, but there he was, sitting in the back row of the room. He gestured to the seat next to him, and I sat down warily.

He waited a moment before he asked, "Is that all there is to it?"

My head tilted. "All there is to what?"

"The story," he clarified. "Just some Nazi science division gone bad again?"

I sat up straighter, feeling defensive. "Yes, that's all there is to it. They were history until the other day."

Mr. Coulson seemed to be fighting back a smile as he put his head down. "I didn't mean to insult your knowledge, Miss Reynolds. I was just making sure those were still the facts."

"Facts are facts, Mr. Coulson," I replied. "I'm just telling you what I've learned."

"And if you didn't have all the facts?"

Mr. Coulson must have seen my confused look, because he continued.

"What you told is the version of history we've created. There's much, much more to be read…are you interested?"

"In what?" I challenged.

"Helping."

"It's not my job."

"It is if you're willing. I already know you're able."

The wheels in my mind were spinning double time. Their version of history…what else could there be to know?

Mr. Coulson grinned, grabbing a file from the chair on the other side of him. "Read it. Let me know what you think. I want your opinion. Our scientists are good, but not good enough to track promethium. These enemies, these people…they're human. We need to start acting like they are. We need to predict their next move."

I glanced down at the file in my hands, the word "CLASSIFIED" staring at me in bright red. "And how will I do that?" I inquired.

Mr. Coulson just smiled. "You'll see it, don't worry."


	17. Fraction

**Fraction**

FanGirlForever19: Thank you very much again!

kuppcake: Oh you just wait, she just gets deeper and deeper into this mess. Almost in a Tony-like way, but hopefully with more restraint.

gotmoreissuesthanvogue: 1. Thank you! 2. Excellent name and profile picture- you'll be noticing some subtle Hamilton references scattered throughout!

Demigod-GallagherGirl: I feel inclined to agree with you that Eliza is a great character, but I'm obviously very biased lol. I think what makes James perfect is that he's imperfect, but owns up to it. It takes a real man to own up to his mistakes!

NileyFreakk: Yes, AIM was the group that attacked the Avengers base! And just wait- she's going to have to face that realization soon enough!

* * *

 _I glanced down at the file in my hands, the word "CLASSIFIED" staring at me in bright red. "And how will I do that?" I inquired._

 _Mr. Coulson just smiled. "You'll see it, don't worry."_

"No."

I sighed heavily, shutting the file and looking up at him. His shoulders were tense and his fists were shut tight, but his eyes betrayed his fear.

"James-"

"No, Eliza, you are not getting involved in this."

Mr. Coulson stepped up beside my new desk, clearing his throat.

"With all due respect, Sargent, I don't think this is your choice-"

"And it wasn't her choice to come here in the first place!" James shot back hastily.

I watched him warily. He was ready to throw a punch, I could tell.

When Coulson didn't respond, James turned his back to him. "You knew this would happen, didn't you?" James seethed. "All this time, you knew what was coming. You knew what would happen. You _knew_ we'd need someone like her."

I looked at Mr. Coulson for confirmation of this theory.

His posture straightened at the claim. A silent confession. "Admittedly, there was some duality in our initial offer-"

"So you lied," James accused.

"There wasn't any lying involved, Barnes," Mr. Coulson replied calmly. "We needed her. You and Rogers needed her. Our interests happened to…coincide."

I pushed my own reaction to this information to the side, choosing instead to watch James. His breathing was becoming heavy, and I could hear the sound of metal crunching as his fists clenched tighter.

"Mr. Coulson, I suggest you leave," I stated neutrally.

The man obeyed, exiting without another word and shutting the door behind him. I got up from my desk and approached James slowly. I knew he wouldn't act in anger toward me, but I also knew that he would decide if I was allowed in his space or not at that moment.

I stopped about a foot away, noticing that his breathing had begun to slow down. "James, listen," I started softly. "This is my decision. If I'm going to be stuck here, then I want to help. Please understand."

The seconds dragged by, and he didn't say a word. I was about to say something else, but he turned and left, the door falling shut loudly behind him. A disheartened sigh left my body, but I turned and walked back to my desk. I had history to read.

* * *

One day had passed. One day of reading, plotting points on maps, and trying to figure out the pattern. My mind was scattered, my hair was a mess, and I hadn't gone to sleep the previous night, too fascinated by what I was reading. It turned out they'd never gone completely dark— SHIELD (and HYDRA, incidentally) had always kept an eye on them.

File in one hand and marker in another, I walked back up to the timeline I'd created on the board in my new office. My eyes scanned the dates again, trailing all the way from the terror bombing in Nice back to the JFK assassination.

 _"Look up there," I instructed, pointing at one of the quotes that had been hung above the desk. "It says 'Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future.' That quote is by-"_

 _"John F. Kennedy, I know," James cut in. "You know I killed him, right?"_

 _I forced a smile onto my face. "Well, I'm sure he wouldn't hold it against you. He was a very nice man, or so we're told. He hated war just like the rest of us, even though he had to deal with a lot of it during his presidency. That quote is very important, though. You can't move on to a brighter future if you keep living in the past."_

I sighed. I hadn't been able to get James out of my head all night, especially since he'd been in the first case of the file. I wanted to know what was on his mind, to know why me helping had made him so angry. But no matter how many different theories I ran through my head, none of it added up. There was no reason for him to worry, to be upset. I wasn't any more of a target now than I had been before, even if Mr. Coulson did hire me knowing what was to come.

I forced myself to switch my attention to the map on the adjacent wall. Even with all of their base locations, attack formations, and recent sightings, I couldn't see a pattern in their behavior. Much like a certain former assassin I knew.

I rolled my eyes and thumped my head against the wall. I needed to eat, and I needed to sleep. But first, I needed to go see James. It was the only way I'd get him out of my head.

After twenty minutes of aimless wandering, I caught word that something was going on down in the gym. The second I heard the words "metal arm," I took off running in that direction. When I arrived, I wasn't surprised at the sight I saw.

At least a dozen men were down on the floor, each groaning about an injury on their body. In the middle of them was another man doomed to a similar fate, and with him stood James. A kick there, a well placed punch there— the agent wasn't going to last much longer. With one final kick to the chest, the agent was thrown on the floor with the rest of the men. A bell was rung, and everyone began to slowly get up from the ground. I waited until they had all staggered out before I entered.

He was sat down on a bench, his back to me as he unwrapped his right hand. I walked as silently as I could, not wanting to disturb him. But a floor board beneath my foot suddenly creaked, and his head tilted up. Figuring there was no way around this, I continued my journey and sat down next to him.

I held my breath until he was finished unwrapping his hand before I spoke. "You know, I couldn't do half the stuff you just did."

His reply was gruff. "That's why you shouldn't be involved." He stood up from the bench and began to walk away, not sparing me a second glance.

Frustrated, I stood up as well. "I'm not going onto the battlefield, James."

He stopped in the center of the room. I had his attention.

"I'm doing research," I continued, slowly approaching him. "Not gearing up for a fight."

A sigh ran through his body. "But this isn't your fight," he insisted softly.

I walked around to stand in front of him. His eyes stayed trained on the floor, unwilling to move. I measured my next words carefully.

"When you signed up for the war, did you know what all you'd signed up for?" I questioned him.

He swallowed. "No…not everything. But at least I knew what I was getting myself into."

"And I knew that I was getting myself involved in a top secret superhero organization," I fought back. James' eyes finally met my own, and I saw pure fear. My hand drifted up to his face, my thumb stroking his cheek slowly.

"I'm going to be on the sidelines, James. And I know I won't get hurt because I know that you won't allow that," I confided.

He shut his eyes and took in a shaky breath. "I won't."

I smiled softly. "Good. Nothing bad will happen to me, James."

His eyes opened again, expression serious. "You don't know that," he countered. "What if that bullet hadn't struck your leg? What if it'd been somewhere else? Somewhere worse?"

"But it wasn't," I insisted. "Now is not the time to live in fear. We can ask 'what if' all day, but it won't help."

I could tell he was going back and forth, so I stepped closer. "Let me help, James. Please."

A tense moment passed before he sighed. "Okay. But-"

I cut him off with a hug, the urge too pressing to control anymore. He froze for a few seconds before his arms slowly moved to wrap around me. I let myself relax against him, embracing the warmth he gave off in the cold castle base. A minute passed before I let him go. But when I did, I found that our faces were suddenly closer than they had been before.

I swallowed hard, my eyes flickering down to his lips for the briefest of seconds. I could have sworn I saw him do the same. An unknown force was pulling me toward him, one that I'd been resisting for what felt like far too long. My eyes started to shut, and-

"Hey, Eliza! You there?"

I fought to hold back a groan as I replied to the comm. "Yes, Dr. Banner?"

"Oh, good! I got the right room. Someone said that you'd gone down to the gym and-"

"What do you need, Dr. Banner?" I interrupted, rubbing my forehead.

"Oh, right- yes! Coulson said you have all the maps ready. Can you bring them to me to match up with our promethium tracks?"

I glanced up at James, who nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Great, thank you!"

The line clicked shut, and I hung my head. I sighed, untangled myself from James, and made my way toward the door.

"Eliza?"

I turned back to see a slightly cocky looking James, and I had to admit that the expression looked good on him.

"Come find me later, okay?"

I nodded my head, maybe a bit too quickly. "Will do." I tried to ignore the way my face felt like fire when he smiled, or how my body was screaming at me to go back and stay with him. But, I had a job to do…unfortunately.


	18. Distribution

**Distribution**

I dream of Eden: Your wishes have been granted, friend! After all, it wouldn't be a very good romance story if it didn't have a lot of interaction between them.

FanGirlForever19: Thank you!

gotmoreissuesthanvogue: Glad you liked it, even though it is a bit of a cliffie.

kuppcake: It seems like everyone liked that moment at the end there, so glad you did too!

NileyFreakk: Yesssss that half smile. All of the questions you mention, by the way, are some of the things that Eliza will have to face- particularly in the next few chapters.

* * *

 _"Eliza?"_

 _I turned back to see a slightly cocky looking James, and I had to admit that the expression looked good on him._

 _"Come find me later, okay?"_

 _I nodded my head, maybe a bit too quickly. "Will do." I tried to ignore the way my face felt like fire when he smiled, or how my body was screaming at me to go back and stay with him. But, I had a job to do…unfortunately._

I felt like a couldn't breathe, and Dr. Banner wasn't doing much better. Mr. (or Agent, as I'd heard him called multiple times now, even though he'd never told me he was such) Coulson stared at the cross-referencing on our maps in silence.

"…how many days do we have?" he finally asked.

Dr. Banner and I shared a look before we consulted our findings again. After a minute, he cleared his throat. "Seven, maybe six days tops-"

"Five," I stated firmly. "It matches the pattern. They'll be here in five days."

Agent Coulson nodded, unfazed. "And any ideas on how they found us?"

"The bifröst testing," Dr. Banner answered. "It attracted a lot of attention from science communities around the world…and where else were we supposed to go after they stormed our base?"

I swallowed hard, looking for any sort of reaction from Agent Coulson. But he stood firm, as if he'd expected this.

"Well then," he said, turning to face us, "I guess we'd better get ready."

To say that things were tense would be an understatement. Steve no longer smiled at me when I ran into him in the hallways. Dr. Banner's voice was constantly wavering, more so than it usually did. Even Tony had stopped blaring AC/DC in his room. Everyone was fidgety, ready to fire a gun at a moment's notice.

During the next two days, I met more Avengers than I could keep track of. The legendary Dr. Stephen Strange had been brought in, along with the literal god Thor, the Ant Man, the Wasp, and a teenage boy named Peter. All of them seemed more than ready to fight, and that alone scared me. The more people they put in this fight, the higher the chance one of them wouldn't come back.

All of these thoughts ran through my head each time I heard someone's name come over the intercom. Sometimes it was Sam, sometimes it was Vision. Then finally, it was me.

"Eliza, you don't understand-"

"You're right, Tony, I don't understand. So do try to explain it to me."

Tony shared a look with everyone else in the room. They had all been in there for an hour before me, and when I entered, none of them looked happy. But as hard as I tried, I couldn't find a pattern between them. In the room with Tony was Thor, Dr. Stephen Strange, and Clint. Then finally, James.

Tony paused for a moment before he continued. "I get it, you're upset. But take a look around— does anyone in here look happy about this?"

I did as he asked, but kept my voice cold. "Why is everyone else here?"

"Because they're in the same situation as you, sweetheart," Tony answered. "We all have someone we care about, someone we can't afford to lose. That makes all of you targets, high interest, top of the market. And that means you have to go."

My jaw clenched. "Why?"

"Jane has already been moved," Thor spoke up.

"And I have no idea where Christine is being taken," Dr. Stephen Strange added on.

I looked to Clint, and he nodded. "Laura and the kids are being taken to South America, that's all I know."

I took in a deep breath, my eyes drifting back to where Tony stood.

"It could be worse," he stated. "You won't be far away. I've got a place set up for you in London. FRIDAY can keep you company— she'll let us know if anything's wrong."

He must have seen my hesitation, because the billionaire stepped closer to me. "Look, we don't need you in the middle of a hostage exchange. This is about your safety, and about his."

My eyes flickered to where Tony was pointing. James' head was hung, and his hands were folded together on his lap. He hadn't said a word since I got here.

"If they get you, you're a bargaining tool to get to him, understood?"

I looked back at Tony, hearing the pleading tone in his voice. After a moment, he swallowed hard, his voice shaking. "Pepper has already been moved, too. Please, just…do it for him. It's one less thing he has to worry about."

My mouth opened to answer when the door slid open to reveal Agent Coulson.

"If you have your information, get going. We're meeting in room C-12 in fifteen minutes," he instructed.

All of the men moved to get up and go toward the door, except for James. Agent Coulson looked to me for an answer, but I gave him an expression that said I didn't know either.

After rousing up some courage, Agent Coulson began to repeat himself. "If you have your information, get-"

"I request permission to accompany her plane to London for security purposes," James said suddenly.

Agent Coulson looked back and forth between us. "Permission denied."

James' eyes snapped up, his mouth open to retort, but Agent Coulson beat him to the punch. "Your decisions are being compromised by your emotions. Whatever your relationship, you are not allowed to accompany her. That would contradict the point of her being moved to a separate location. Permission denied."

Agent Coulson spared me a glance as he walked out of the room. "Pack a bag, Miss Reynolds. You leave in two days."

The second the door shut behind him, I found myself in James' desperate grasp.

"Breathe in, breathe out," I instructed softly. "Breathe in, breathe out."


	19. Anticipation

**Anticipation**

FanGirlForever19: Indeed! I think this next chapter starts to go into why he would choose her a little bit more! Also, definitely look forward to a bit more time with the other Avengers- it's always hard to get every character involved since there's so many, but it starts happening slowly over time as Eliza gets more acquainted with everyone.

Guest 1: I'm not gonna spoil the plot since you're guessing at it, but don't worry, you'll see what happens very soon!

Guest 2: Here's your update! It's about twice the length of the last one, so enjoy!

daydreamer987: You chose a great time to read this story, seeing as how you now get the next chapter so soon!

* * *

 _Agent Coulson spared me a glance as he walked out of the room. "Pack a bag, Miss Reynolds. You leave in two days."_

 _The second the door shut behind him, I found myself in James' grasp._

 _"Breathe in, breathe out," I instructed softly. "Breathe in, breathe out."_

I woke up that morning to the sound of knocking at my door. My brain foggy and my feet sluggish, it took me a good minute before I was able to get over to the door and open it. When I did, I saw Sam standing there with a worried look on his face.

"Hey, 'liza, thought I'd come warn you."

"About what?" I yawned.

Sam raised his eyebrows, amused. "Your boy is about to go crazy."

"Oh really?" I sniffed. "What's he up to now?"

Sam laughed, his arms crossing in front of him. "He's about ten minutes away from coming here and knocking down your door. Says he wants to train you before you have to go."

I woke up all at once, my mind struggling to process what Sam had just told me. "Wait, what- why?"

He shrugged. "Don't ask me. He was up all night talking to Steve about it, and then Steve told me this morning during our run- well, his jog."

I looked over at the time. It read 7:20. "How long do I have again?"

"Ten minutes."

"Crap."

Sam snorted as he walked away. "Good luck, 'liza."

* * *

Two hours later, I was lying on the gym floor completely out of breath. My arms were sore, my legs felt like jello, and I knew that both of my hands were probably bruised under the wraps. James came up beside me, offering a water bottle and a hand up.

I accepted the water gratefully, chugging as much as I could in one go. "This is ridiculous," I managed to get out after. "You can't train me to become an assassin in two days."

"I know," James replied as he hefted me up from the ground. "And I'm not trying to. I'm giving you the basics, things you need to know in case something goes wrong."

I fought back the urge to roll my eyes. I couldn't, because I knew he was right. I needed something up my sleeve if the plan went south. I put my hands on my cramping sides, taking my time to look around the room as I caught my breath. A door off to the side attracted my attention.

"What's that?" I asked, inclining my head toward the door and taking another sip of water.

James' eyes switched from me to the door. "Weapons room. Off limits to non-combatants."

I raised an eyebrow. "But not to you."

"Eliza, no," James stated, reading my mind. "I am not getting you a weapon."

I crossed my arms and stared him down. "I am 5'2", 108 pounds, and have never been on an athletic team in my life. You can train me all you want, but it won't be enough."

The firm look in his eyes began to melt, and I knew he was listening. "Even if I don't have good aim, a gun would stop someone in their tracks…give me a moment to run."

"Only temporarily," he argued, but his voice lacked conviction. With a sigh, James walked toward the door. "Stay here. I'll see if there's something you could use."

A smile came onto my face, and I went over to the bench to sit down and wait. I began unwrapping my hands, not surprised when they had a dusting of bruises and blood on them. I stretched them out slowly, biting my lip to hold back any noises of pain. I waited a few more minutes before James made his way back to me, a dagger in one hand and a pistol in the other.

My eyes widened, and a knowing smile appeared on his face. "Not so sure now that you see them, are you?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, it's not that, it's just…" I trailed off. "I never thought I'd have to use something like that."

A sorrowful look came onto James' face. "No one thinks they ever will, until they have to. It's your choice. I'm sure they'll let you take only one."

My hand hovered hesitantly before I picked up the pistol. James eyed me carefully, watching as I took in the weight— both physical and psychological. After a moment, he flipped the knife and tucked it into his pocket.

"Follow me- the shooting range is across the hall." I got up and did as I was told, following him to the room next door. Except for a few targets filled with arrows, the room was oddly empty.

"It's Avengers only," James explained as he walked over to a screen on the wall. He tapped a few buttons, and a hologram of a human target appeared at the midway point in the range.

My breath stopped as I looked at it. A thousand faces filled my mind- people I'd met on the street, my coworkers, my family. I wouldn't be shooting at a target. I would be shooting at a person.

James approached me slowly, but I couldn't find the words. "H-How- how do you…I can't-"

"It hurts the first time," he admitted, his expression oddly blank. "You think about them. Wonder who they were, whose friend they were, if they had a family."

My wide eyes stared up at him.

His expression changed suddenly, turning into one of solemnity. "But you have to remember what you're fighting for. In your situation, it's going to be you or them. And I know it's hard, but you have to choose yourself."

I took in a shaky breath, nodding. James' eyes softened as he looked at me, his left hand coming up to my cheek.

"Every time I go out there, I think about the people I want to come back to," he whispered. "Who do you want to come back to?"

Looking at him in that moment, it all clicked. No one wanted to fire a gun. No one wanted to kill. But if they wanted to see the people they loved again, they would.

I locked my shoulders into place, my eyes looking down at the gun in my hand with renewed purpose. "So…what's the first step?"

James' face hardened into determination, and he reached down to point at the side of the gun. "First, make sure the safety is off. Then-"

* * *

My eyes scanned the contents of my duffle bag one last time. They'd said to pack for three days, but given the mood on base the past forty eight hours, I decided to pack extra. I peeled back the sweaters on top to double check. The black pistol sat there, fully loaded. I took in a deep breath before I covered it back up. I had to remember who I wanted to come home to.

I thought back to the other night when I sat down and wrote out a list. At first I'd written the obvious- my family, friends, and coworkers…and the more I thought, the more that list expanded. I wanted to come home to Dr. Banner, not wanting him to lose a friend he'd just made. I wanted to come home to Tony, just to see his "I-told-you-so" expression and hear him call me Lizzie one more time. I wanted to come home to Sam, especially so I could thank him for always helping me find my way when I got lost. I wanted to come home to Steve, just to make sure he was okay. But most importantly, I wanted to come home to James.

Why, I wasn't sure. I just knew I had to.

I zipped up the bag, my expression hard. Then there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," I called as I grabbed my coat off the bed.

I could tell it was James by the sound of his footsteps. But when I turned around, I was taken aback.

"You-"

"Yeah," he said shyly, his hand running through his newly cut locks. I stepped forward in a daze, my hand reaching up to touch his hair before I could stop myself. "It was always getting in my eyes…I figured it was time."

I nodded slowly, still in awe. He looked like he'd walked out of the history books. After a moment, my hand fell from his hair to his cheek. He closed his eyes tightly, keeping me from seeing what was swirling within them.

"Don't get captured," he finally whispered. "Do what they tell you to do. Stay where it's safe. I'll come get you when it's over, I promise."

My mind flashed back to when he'd said that before, when the Avengers facility had been attacked. He'd come for me then, he would come for me now.

I nodded my head, my thumb tracing circles on his cheek. His eyes opened for just a second before he pulled me in tight. I gripped him as firmly as I could, my fingers combing through his hair absentmindedly. I took in his scent, burying my nose into his neck.

Moments passed before I whispered, "I'm planning on coming home to you, don't worry."

Five minutes later, we were walking down the hall to the garage. We didn't make eye contact. I focused on the hall ahead of me. He focused on the floor and his grip on my bag. We passed through a gateway, and the vast space of the garage opened up. Missiles, tanks, and motorbikes laid out in droves before me, but I continued walking.

Agent Coulson stood next to a black SUV, tapping on a tablet. When we were within ten feet of him, he looked up and smiled. "Ready to go, Miss Reynolds?"

I kept my face neutral as I nodded.

"Good, we need to get you to the airstrip as fast as possible. Our agents will escort you to the plane, as well as to the safe house in London. Her Majesty's Royal Guard has offered some of their men as backup. No one will get to you."

I nodded again, watching as James took my duffle bag and placed it in the trunk. Agent Coulson followed my gaze.

"I'll make sure he doesn't do anything out of line," he told me quietly. "If anything happens to him, you'll be the first to know after Rogers."

I sent Agent Coulson a grateful look before he shouted, "Alright everyone, load up! Wheels up in thirty seconds!"

A lump in my throat formed when I heard his command. After a moment's hesitation, I climbed into the back of the car. Before I shut the door, I looked back at James, who stood a few feet from the vehicle. Our gazes locked, and he nodded.

"I'll come get you," he mouthed silently.

"You better," I mouthed in return.

I caught sight of his smile before the door slammed shut.


	20. Observation

**Observation**

FanGirlForever19: Thank you very much! That was one of my favorite chapters to write!

daydreamer987: You always point out my favorite things, and I appreciate that so much.

So: I'm not entirely sure what you mean, but feel free to message me if you wanna talk about the details of the plot!

kuppcake: Thank you!

* * *

 _"I'll come get you," he mouthed silently._

 _"You better," I mouthed in return._

 _I caught sight of his smile before the door slammed shut._

The city of London spread out before me, buildings old and new wrapped around the banks of the River Thames. I stared out the plane window in wonder, the Irish castle I'd left just two hours before a distant memory. I rested back against my chair, vaguely wondering where Tony's safe house was located.

As it turned out, it was on the River Thames. The safe house was swarming with armed men in suits when we arrived, but all I noticed was the view. I approached the window, hardly noticing the two inch thick glass. A few blocks to my right stood the London Eye, and across from me sat the Palace of Westminster and Big Ben.

"Miss Reynolds?"

I turned to see a blonde man in a suit at attention. A Royal Navy pin gleamed on his lapel. "My name is Commander Cross, Miss Reynolds. Her Majesty assigned me to take care of you in the midst of this crisis."

I nodded my head, not used to being spoken to like an authority figure. "Thank you."

Commander Cross's head nodded shortly. "Allow me to show you to your living quarters." His tone left no room for argument, and I had no reason to not follow. It was at that moment I noticed how elegant the whole place was. It was less of a safe house than it was a penthouse, but what else did I expect from Tony?

We passed at least half a dozen rooms on the long corridor before we reached mine. Just from looking at it, I could tell it was different. The door was thicker and heavier, and the lock (even under the guise of gold plating) seemed heavy duty.

"Door open," Commander Cross requested. The sound of gears churning echoed through the walls, and the door slowly swung open to invite us in. Commander Cross motioned for me to go before him.

"It's good to see you, Eliza," FRIDAY's voice greeted me as I walked in. "Mr. Stark has left a message for you to view whenever you are available."

I nodded dazedly, taking the room in slowly. A king bed with a large canopy and satin coverings was centered on one wall, and opposite of it was a flat screen embedded into the wall. I went over and tapped it, not at all surprised when the Stark Industries logo appeared.

I hummed in appreciation before I continued exploring. A giant bay window on one end of the room gave me a view of the Thames, and a door on the other end lead to a massive bathroom filled with marble, followed suit by a walk in closet. I found myself thinking that if it weren't for the situation at hand, I might've actually been able to enjoy this place.

Commander Cross cleared his throat at the door. "Will this accommodate your needs?"

"Yes," I breathed. "I'll be just fine."

He nodded. "Dinner is at six pm sharp. You are free to be about the safe house, but we ask you do not interfere in our operations to keep you safe."

"Understood," I said. "Thank you."

Commander Cross turned on his heel and walked out, leaving me to sit on my bed and stare out the window. After a moment, I said, "FRIDAY, play Tony's message, please."

"Shall I shut the door first?" the AI replied.

I considered it. "Yes."

"Will do, Eliza."

The moment the door shut, Tony's smirking face popped up on the screen in front of me.

"Hey, Lizzie, I'm glad to know you've made it! I'm sure FRIDAY already sent me the arrival notification on my phone. I hope you like my little bungalow, but don't go messing up anything."

I rolled my eyes, a smile coming onto my face.

Tony's expression turned serious. "Be good, okay? Don't do anything I would do, and stay out of trouble. If you're scared, go to your room. It's the safest place in there. That door? Made of six inch thick titanium. No one's getting in there. I fixed the settings so that it'll open only if you're there. FRIDAY will keep you safe, I promise."

I found myself nodding, even though I knew he couldn't see me. I wondered when he'd made the recording, when he'd found the time to set up my DNA scan at the door. Then I noticed the way Tony's eyes looked glassy, and tears of my own began to well up in my eyes.

"I'll see you on the other side, kid."

The screen went black.

* * *

The next day passed slower than I could've ever imagined. The night before had been a restless one, and today didn't look like it was going to be any better. I paced around my room, constantly checking the news for any word on the imminent attack. One hour, two hours, five…they all dragged by in a sea of anxiety and fear. I started to think that NBC used the Breaking News headline for almost anything, because it was the ninth time they'd used it that day before it actually mattered.

"Breaking News, there has been an incursion involving the Avengers in Northern Ireland," Lester Holt announced. I spun around from my position at the bay window, my heart racing. "So far, no injuries have been reported. Their enemy? A.I.M., the former Nazi science division. They have been out of sight for over fifteen years, but have now decided to make their presence known. More details will continue to come in."

Relief flooded my heart, but I stayed on edge. I wanted it confirmed that there were no injuries, not just the lack of report. A vision of James lying on the ground wounded flitted through my mind, but I pushed it aside. I would hear eventually…just not soon enough.

A few more hours passed before any more news came in. Details about the state of the castle ruins. A timeline of the attack. A reporter on sight. Then finally, an interview. My heart warmed when I saw Steve on the screen.

"This was good vs evil, plain and simple," Steve told the reporter. "I'm just glad the danger is gone."

"And are the Avengers okay?" the reporter asked.

Steve nodded firmly, and a sigh left my body. "Everyone's fine- just the usual scrapes. But we'll be okay."

The reporter smiled. "Well, thank you for your time, Captain. The details we've received since the attack continue to flood in-"

I turned the tv off and fell back onto my bed, finally able to relax. My eyes were shut only a second before they flew open again, a smile wide on my face. I would get to see James before I knew it.

I fell asleep that night with a smile on my face. He would come home to me soon.


	21. Intuition

**Intuition**

FanGirlForever19: You might think twice about that great ending when you read what happens next!

kuppcake: Writing Tony's message and about his penthouse was my favorite thing in that chapter! Tony's character is very complex, and he does usually get himself into a lot of trouble, but at the end of the day he genuinely cares for the people in his life. That sort of character is really fun to explore!

Demigod-GallagherGirl: Welcome aboard! I'm glad that this makes you smile! I'm always open to suggestions or ideas, so feel free to PM me!

* * *

 _I fell asleep that night with a smile on my face. He would come home to me soon._

I woke up to the sound of alarms echoing throughout the safe house. Startled, I jumped up from the bed, first noting the numbers 4:06 staring at me on the screen. Second, I noticed the steal plating that covered the bay window. Finally, I heard the noise.

There were grunts, gun shots, and yells coming from outside my room. I frantically began to search for my gun. "FRIDAY, what's happening?" I demanded, my hand finding the gun seconds afterward.

FRIDAY didn't answer, but the tv did.

"Vocal system offline, backup generator failing, commands still accepted," the screen read.

I nodded, clicking the safety off my gun and moving to stand at the entrance of the door. My heart was pounding. It was now or never.

"FRIDAY, unlock the door."

I could hardly hear the gears turning in the walls over the sound of blood rushing in my ears. I held my gun firm as I exited the room, the lengthy corridor stretching out before me. Sparks flew from a control panel on the wall, and all the lights went out. The sounds of fighting were growing louder, but I didn't stop. The carpet padded my footsteps as I approached the living room. I heard one final yelp, and then a thud. My heart rate increased, but I forced myself to turn the corner.

A man stood in the center of the room, a small army of fallen men at his feet. His back was to me, and his shoulders were tense. I cocked the gun and held it up, but stopped my finger from pulling the trigger. There was a gleam of metal peaking through a slash in his coat.

"…James?"

I held the gun steady as he spun around. Blue eyes filled with fear greeted me, and before I knew it, I was being swept up into familiar arms.

"Eliza," he breathed, holding me tight.

I clung to him, letting the gun fall onto the carpet. Tears flooded my eyes, and I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. It was over. He was here. We could go home.

"James," I whispered, my hands running through his hair as I breathed in his scent.

He stepped back suddenly, his hands cupping my face as his eyes searched my body. "I thought you were dead. Are you okay? They didn't get to you?" he questioned frantically.

Confusion fell onto my face. "James, I'm just fine…" I trailed off, remembering the alarms and the noises. "What's going on?"

His hand grabbed mine, and he began to pull me toward my room. "Get dressed and pack your things- now. I'll explain on the way."

I nodded, running into my closet and searching for something to change into. Even though my anxiety told me to forget about proper clothes in the danger of the moment, I knew a t-shirt and shorts wouldn't do well in the cold London night. After I tossed on a sweater, coat, and jeans, I exited the bathroom, grabbed my bag, and began stuffing things in it. I tried to not focus too much on how he stood at my door, dagger in hand ready to strike. Even in my panicked state, I had to admit that he was a sight for sore eyes.

After pulling on a random pair of shoes, I slung my bag over my shoulder and jogged up to him. "Ready."

His eyes turned to meet mine, and my breath caught. The tugging sensation was back, pulling me in toward him. Our foreheads touched gently, and my heart was racing. My eyes started to shut in anticipation.

"We have to go," his breathy voice said.

My eyes fluttered open, and I could see frustration in his. Before I could speak, he grabbed my hand and took me back down the corridor. I stopped to pick my gun up off the ground before we stepped into the living room. My breath caught when I saw the bodies scattered throughout the room, and then again when I saw James take a machine gun off one of them.

After checking the cartridge, James came back and tugged on my hand. "We have to keep moving."

I nodded and followed him out in a daze, my mind fuzzy and confused from all that had happened in the past five minutes. James stopped me before we turned a corner, motioning for me to have my gun up. He rounded the corner with his gun ready before he jerked his head for me to follow.

When we finally exited the building, a lone black car was waiting at the sidewalk. James chucked his gun in the back seat before he took off, hardly giving me time to put on my seatbelt.

"I-I think you owe me an explanation," I stuttered, my hand searching for something to hold onto.

James' jaw clenched, his eyes not leaving the road. "A.I.M. was trickier than we thought. The attack on our base was a distraction. They sent out smaller units to track down you guys. First we heard that Jane's location had been compromised, then Pepper's. I knew they'd come for you next."

My eyes were wide with terror. "So Commander Cross and all of them were-"

"On our side," James assured me. "But they wouldn't be enough. All of them were down when I got there."

I nodded slowly, trying to take in this new information. "And the other women?"

"Safe. Thor got Jane just as they were stuffing her in a car. Tony sent one of his suits to get Pepper- she was hiding in a closet while they were searching for her. Christine and Clint's family were removed minutes before their places were blown up. We took care of the rest of their men afterward."

I took in a shaky breath. I'd slept peacefully for hours, completely unaware of all that had gone on. I stared out the window, watching the city of London fly by before me. I knew he was on route to the airstrip, having taken this road on my journey here.

"…so where are we going now?" I asked softly.

James looked over at me, an unexpected grin on his face. "Home."

In a few minutes, we were arriving on the stopped twenty feet short of a mini jet, and I got out. I shouldered my bag, tucking the pistol away as I did so. I then turned to James and sent him a confused look. He was standing guard, machine gun ready to fire.

He shook his head. "I'll get on the plane last. I have to make sure nothing else happens."

I nodded, but stopped before I ascended the steps. I jogged back to him and hesitantly placed a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," I whispered.

I saw him swallow hard before he tightened his grip on the gun. "No problem." Even in the dark, I could see his cheeks flush.

A giddy smile came onto my face before I ran back to the stairs. But when I entered, I saw that I wasn't alone. There was a dark skinned man sitting in a chair, his position thoughtful. One of his eyes was covered by a black patch, and the other stared out the window at James.

"I never woulda thought that _you_ were what he needed," he drawled, his head turning slowly so he could stare me down.

My posture stiffened. "Excuse me?"

The man looked amused as he stood up. "Don't take it personally- it just wasn't your job, was it? You thought you'd come in, get a few superheroes up to speed on history, and be out. Back to your normal life."

I took a step back, glancing out the window. James was still standing guard.

The man must have sensed my paranoia, because he stopped advancing. "At ease, soldier. I'm the least of your problems."

My eyes turned back, blazing. "I am not a soldier."

His eye met mine, expression solemn. "You are now."

James entered the plane before I could retort, and he must have known something was wrong. I felt a gentle hand rest on my back, causing my eyes to blink before I looked to him for an explanation.

"Eliza, this is the former director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury."


	22. Invitation

**Invitation**

FanGirlForever19: Gosh, Nick Fury is honestly one of the most fun characters to write (along with Tony Stark, of course). Probably just because Samuel L Jackson is amazing, but seriously, I was so excited to bring him in.

Bimbumel: Thank you and welcome aboard!

DarylDixon'sLover: This question made me laugh so much. I think in my own head-canon, Clint is called in when they need him, but most of the time he's working on the farm! Also, when I got your review that just said "uh oh," I literally laughed out loud.

kuppcake: Bless Bucky and his incredible timing- and thank you for that! Aa I said above, Fury is so fun to write!

LeeMinah92: You and me both, man. I've never been a superfluous writer, but I do like to put a lot of time and thought into the content that I do write. Remember, if you ever have any ideas, I'm ready to listen!

Demigod-Gallagher Girl: This review just makes sense, like... _yes_ , Eliza, just _yes_! I thought similar things when I was writing that chapter, because obviously she's not a trained assassin or anything, but she knew it was do or die time and she stepped up to the plate.

* * *

 _My eyes turned back, blazing. "I am not a soldier."_

 _His eye met mine, expression solemn. "You are now."_

 _James entered the plane before I could retort, and he must have known something was wrong. I felt a gentle hand rest on my back, causing my eyes to blink before I looked to him for an explanation._

 _"Eliza, this is the former director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury."_

I sat across from him, arms crossed and my eyes deliberately glued to the window. Amidst the uncomfortable atmosphere, I could sense James' warm presence on my right. Part of me longed to reach out and grab his hand, but I felt like I couldn't. Not now. Not while _he_ was watching my every move.

"Look," the former director said, effectively breaking the past thirty minutes of tense silence. "I get it. You're not happy with the situation."

"You could say that," I mumbled. My eyes shifted to the floor before I met his eyes. Age had worn him down. He looked different from the picture I'd used when I wrote a public letter of thanks for his service almost six years ago.

Fury huffed, falling back in his chair and putting his hands up in exasperation. "What do you want?" he asked. "I can't say anything until I know that."

I could feel James' eyes on me. His gaze was slowly crumbling my resolve. "I want a normal life," I sighed after a moment's consideration. "I don't want to be on the run. To be taken away to some safe house, and even then have to worry that I'll get killed. I want to go back to my job, back to my apartment, and back to how things were."

An amused smile came onto Fury's face. "And you think you can just…make it so, don't you? Act like nothing happened, forget it all." His eye flickered over to James before it looked back at me.

I knew I was falling into his trap, but I couldn't help but nod. "Yes, that's what I want."

Fury leaned forward in his seat, hands folding together. "Gotta take the good with the bad, girl."

I felt James shift uncomfortably beside me, and I looked over. He was trying to keep his face blank, but I knew what he was thinking. He thought I wanted to get rid of him, too, not just the chaos of the last month.

My attention turned back to Fury. "Then what are my options?"

He turned his eye out the window, then back again. He studied me for a moment. "Option number one, you come with us," he stated. "You become a full time employee, live at the Avengers facility, and are sworn to secrecy. Your involvement with the Avengers will become public knowledge soon enough, and you'll learn how to live in the spotlight."

I took in a shaky breath, nodding. James' hand suddenly grasped mine, and I took in his expression. He was almost silently begging me to agree, but he wouldn't say anything. He knew it was my choice.

"And option two?" I asked.

Nick Fury's eye flicked back and forth between us before he replied. "You go back to normal. All your work with the Avengers is erased, all contact is cut off. We keep an eye on you from a distance for a year or so, make sure you're okay, then disappear. Like it never even happened."

James squeezed my hand. I knew what he wanted…I just wasn't sure what I wanted.

A car picked me up from the airport and took me to my apartment, giving me only a brief moment to tell James goodbye before I was whisked away. When I arrived, I found my spare key in the usual hiding spot. I opened the door and turned on a light, a mixture of emotions hitting me as I took in the messy state of my apartment. In a way, it felt so familiar. In another way, it felt entirely foreign.

I spent the next few hours catching up on things. I sent an email to my boss and my landlord, explaining that I'd recovered and been released from the hospital. After unpacking, I sat down on my bed and pulled out my phone. I could hear Tony's voice in my head, mocking me with an incorrigible smirk as I pressed the call button on my iPhone. I pushed the thought aside.

I smiled when I heard a voice say, "Hello?"

"Hey, mom, I'm back home."

"Oh, Eliza! That's so good! How's your leg?"

I laughed, falling back against my pillows. "Much better."

"Good! And the boy? How's he?"

My heart dropped, but I kept my voice cheery. "Yeah, he's…he's great."

"You've always been bad at lying, honey," my mother chided.

"Yeah, I know," I sighed. "I don't know, things are just…complicated right now."

"Are they complicated or are you making them complicated?"

I stared out the window, suddenly being struck with an inescapable feeling of loneliness. "…I'm not sure," I admitted.

"Well you think about it, okay? Think about it for a while, talk to him about it if you're comfortable. If you care for him, he'll be hard to get out of your head."

"Trust me, I know," I mumbled. "I'll give it a few days, okay?"

"Okay, honey. I'm glad you called, though- I just got the weekend before Christmas off! They're sending me upstate for some end of the quarter conference thingy, and well, I'd be more than happy to stop by for a visit! It's been so long since I came up to see you."

I smiled, knowing she was right. "Sure, mom, sounds like a plan. We can talk more later, okay? I need to clean up my place a bit."

"Okay, just don't work your leg too much, alright? And if it hurts, get some Advil. Baby steps."

"I know, I know. I'll be fine, mom, don't worry. I love you."

"Love you too, Elizabeth."

I put the phone down with a sigh, turning my attention to my old tv. I guess I didn't have an AI to ask to turn it on. Sighing once more, I got up from the bed and grabbed the remote, flipping the channel to the local news station. I sat on my bed for a while, staring at the screen and listening to the reports.

They were still talking about the attack, but there was nothing about the infiltrations on any of the women. It was as though they hadn't even happened. I started to wonder if any of it had happened at all. If history could be rewritten so easily, or if the details just got "left out."

After a few more hours, I crawled into bed. My room seemed darker than it used to, as if it contained more places for people to hide. A sleepless half hour passed before I caved, got up, rifled through my bag, and placed my gun on the bedside table. I went to bed that night feeling empty, wondering when I'd gotten so used to the comforting fact that James was right down the hall.


	23. Interrogation

**Interrogation**

DarylDixon'sLover: Indeed it would be, but considering the gravity of the situation, it's not as easy as every other love story!

FanGirlForever19: I love how every in the comments is saying "PICK JAMES", but this chapter shows how difficult the decision may be. Either way, there are pros and cons.

Demigod-GallagherGirl: Hand squeezes are the best. Fun fact, my boyfriend and I used a little code of hand squeezes when we were first meeting each other's family. It helped us know if the other was anxious or nervous,so I like to think that Eliza and James are already to the point where they can easily read each other from small signs.

kuppcake: Oh trust me, she doesn't want to forget Bucky at all (I mean seriously, who would wanna forget him?). You're right that she's feeling very conflicted, though! After all, choosing him comes along with a lot of danger, instability, etc. And she's a grown woman, so I think she really does have a big choice to make if she wants that for her life or not.

* * *

 _After a few more hours, I crawled into bed. My room seemed darker than it used to, as if it contained more places for people to hide. A sleepless half hour passed before I caved, got up, rifled through my bag, and placed my gun on the bedside table. I went to bed that night feeling empty, wondering when I'd gotten so used to the comforting fact that James was right down the hall._

A few days later, I still hadn't made up my mind, and I knew only one thing would help.

"A car will be at your apartment in twenty minutes," Agent Coulson's voice intoned. "It'll be good to have you back, Miss Reynolds."

"Anything I need to bring?" I asked.

"Anything you think you'll need for the day," Agent Coulson replied. "We're rebuilding, Reynolds. You won't have your usual space."

"I figured just as much."

"Nineteen minutes, Miss Reynolds."

A feeling of familiarity swept over me as I began to rush around my apartment to get ready. I pulled out a duffle bag and began stuffing things in, ready to stay for a few days if I had to. My heart fluttered when I thought about being near James again, spurring me on to get ready even faster. After I zipped the bag shut, I fell back on my bed and closed my eyes.

I could see it, his face before me. His eyes shining bright, a wide smile on his face. I could even feel it- the cool metal of his hand on my skin, and the warmth of his other hand grasping mine gently. My eyes fluttered open. I had to see him. I had to talk with him about this.

I ran outside just as the car was pulling up. The window rolled down to reveal a surprised looking Maria Hill.

"You look excited for someone who fell off the face of the planet," she drawled.

"It's only been a few days," I retorted happily as I clicked on my seatbelt.

I caught sight of a smirk on her face in the mirror. "You haven't been dealing with restless superheroes. All of them have been asking for you."

My heart swelled, suddenly remembering Tony, Dr. Banner, and Steve. A smile stayed on my face the entire car ride, and even when I got on the plane amidst at least a dozen armed soldiers. I tapped my hands nervously on the arm rest, the flight seeming to last longer than usual. Did he know I was coming? Would he be there on the airstrip? Maybe he'd be busy training, and I could go down and find him in the gym. Part of me wished he'd be in his bedroom, that way we could at least talk privately.

My cheeks flushed suddenly. I knew that I wanted to do more than talk. But all that would have to wait a bit, at least until everything had calmed down. Maybe if I moved to work at the facility, we could get to know each other even better. My insides felt warm at the thought, and an overwhelming smile came back onto my face.

When we landed, my smile fell slightly when I couldn't spot him. Of course he wasn't there to greet me, he was probably busy. In fact, by the looks of it, everyone was busy. Construction machines filled the grounds, all putting the finishing touches on repairing any damaged parts of the compound. I noticed Ian by the tree line and waved, happy to see him smile back.

"It's good to see you again!" Ian said after he jogged over. "Everyone was so worried when we heard what was happening."

"It's good to be back," I replied, choosing to ignore the second part of his statement. "What are you working on?"

"Ah," he motioned to the edge of the compound. "New cloaking system. It'll make us practically undetectable."

I nodded, patting him on the shoulder. "Well, I won't keep you distracted. I've got an assassin to find, anyways."

Ian's faced dropped suddenly. "Oh, didn't they tell you? He-"

"Miss Reynolds!"

I turned to see Agent Coulson striding toward me, a large briefcase in his hand. I spun around to Ian. "Duty calls. I'll see you around!"

Ian only nodded in response, a confused look on his face as I followed Agent Coulson into the compound.

"You look excited," Agent Coulson commented idly as we walked into the building.

I took in the sight, suddenly struck with how much I'd missed this place. "Why shouldn't I be?" I asked with a shrug. "I'm glad to be back. You wouldn't happen to know where James is, would you?"

Agent Coulson opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off.

"This way, Elizabeth!"

I turned in the direction of the call. The former S.H.I.E.L.D. director stood in the doorway of a conference room, almost completely decked out in black leather. I approached him with confidence, shaking his proffered hand. "Director."

Fury shook his head. "Haven't been for several years, Reynolds. I'm just here because my people need me."

I nodded my head understandingly. We entered the room in tandem, Agent Coulson close behind us. I took a seat at the table, the two men choosing to sit directly opposite of me. Before I could get out a word, Agent Coulson slid a large file over to me. The terms of my employment.

My fingers rested hesitantly on the cover, taking in the opening words of the document. I scanned the first page before I looked up at them. "So, what does this entail?"

They shared a look before Agent Coulson spoke. "Full time employment, yearly salary, insurance, benefits, the whole nine yards. Your work with Rogers and Barnes showed signs of progress and promise, and we would like to continue that work. Dr. Banner also requested you as an assistant, but you can deny or accept that offer at a later date. For the time being, you would be assigned to our research department, as well as our health department. That way, you get access to Roger's and Barnes' files, in order to see if anything else needs to be addressed."

I nodded, my eyes wandering over the legal jargon curiously. There was one thing in particular that wasn't mentioned in the file.

Fury seemed to sense my silent question. "Your room will be a floor above the Avengers' residential space. You won't be far if you're needed."

My eyes brightened at that, a new smile coming onto my face. Their words spun around in my head, and I knew the offer was a once in a lifetime opportunity. "I'm definitely interested, but…" I trailed off, not sure if I should be honest or not. "…I want to talk it over with James, first. I want his opinion."

Fury and Agent Coulson glanced at each other, and a sense of dread washed over me. Fury sighed, one of his hands coming up to massage his forehead. "I'm afraid he's…unavailable, at the time."

I sensed there was something they weren't telling me, but I held my tongue. "O-oh, alright. Um…anything else I should know, then?"

Agent Coulson fixed me with a look. "As I'm sure you are aware, no one can know about the details of your job-"

"Of course," I nodded.

His gaze was serious. "That means no family, no friends, no anybody outside of this facility can be privy to what you're doing here. If anyone asks, you say you work for the government. That being said…" he trailed off, suddenly appearing less than comfortable. "Your…relationship with Sargent Barnes will be hard to keep from the public eye. I'm sure you've thought this through?"

I felt my mind halt in its tracks. He was wrong, I hadn't taken the time to think it through. Maybe it should have crossed my mind at some point in the past few weeks that I'd befriended a World War II veteran. Maybe I should have thought about the fact that he was a known killer, a man with a dark past. But that wasn't James, not the one I knew. The James I knew was warm and caring, protective and determined, shy and sweet. He wasn't his past, he was his future.

My posture straightened of its own accord, and my chin raised slightly. "No, I haven't thought it through. I'm not entirely what there is to think about. We've grown close in the past two months, and that's all there is to it."

Fury gave me a lazy look that I couldn't define. "So you think you two can just…" he motioned to the air, "go about your business like normal people?"

My confidence weakened. "…yes, yes I do," I replied. "Why shouldn't we?"

Fury leaned forward. "I think it's time you stop acting like this can be normal, Reynolds. You're asking to enter the world of gods and superheroes, aliens and androids. And if you're associated with one, in any sort of way, things will most certainly _not_ be normal."

Agent Coulson cleared his throat. "You can't avoid the spotlight, Miss Reynolds. It's inevitable."

I sat back in my chair, their words slowly sinking in. I sat there for a minute before I stood up and walked toward the door. "I need to speak with James," I stated, hand reaching for the knob. "Where is he? I'm sure he won't mind a break from whatever he's doing."

Fury stood, and from the look in his eye, I knew I wasn't going to like whatever he said.

"He's on mission, Reynolds," Fury stated. "We needed a small contingency of agents to do a final sweep- make sure A.I.M. was out of the game for good. He was the first to volunteer."

My heart dropped, as did the determined look on my face. "Wh-What- since when…h-how long will he-"

"We don't know," Agent Coulson said. "As long as it takes. He left yesterday morning."

A crushing sensation of loneliness mixed with numb denial washed over me. I staggered back, my hand searching for the knob. When I finally found it, the door swung open suddenly behind me. I stared at the two men, both of them watching me closely.

"I-I'll get back to you soon," I stuttered. Then I walked away.


	24. Fiction

**Fiction**

DarylDixon'Lover: Oh dear, indeed. Prepare yourself for some nonsense, friend.

FanGirlForever19: Yes, poor Elizabeth! I'm so glad that people reading this are understanding. I was originally concerned that people would just be like 'no, date Bucky, how is that even a question' - but it really is. There's a lot that comes with it!

kayluvsall: I love how you left two reviews, that really made my day. Here's the more you were waiting for!

kuppcake: Bless James, I do believe that his first tactic when he's unsure about something is being distant. It shows in Civil War when he and Steve just escaped the airport battle, and he says something along the lines of "I'm not sure if I'm worth all this." James just needs a hug.

musicluver246: Thank you, and since I think you're new, welcome aboard!

Demigod-GallagherGirl: Thanks! Fun fact, most of the interactions are based off me and my boyfriend, because I'm a nerd and I think he's great. And yes, when/if the Avengers are reunited with Eliza, it's gonna be great!

iblamemikegreen: Welcome! I update every Saturday morning, and always welcome suggestions!

* * *

 _My heart dropped, as did the determined look on my face. "Wh-What- since when…h-how long will he-"_

 _"We don't know," Agent Coulson said. "As long as it takes. He left yesterday morning."_

 _A crushing sensation of loneliness mixed with numb denial washed over me. I staggered back, my hand searching for the knob. When I finally found it, the door swung open suddenly behind me. I stared at the two men, both of them watching me closely._

 _"I-I'll get back to you soon," I stuttered. Then I walked away._

"So you'll keep up the timeline through the one hundred day marker?" Mr. Fields inquired.

I nodded affirmative. "Yes, sir. The system worked well during the election, and even now leading up to the inauguration. As you know, the first hundred days are incredibly important for any new president. There's going to be a thousand executive orders, and we need to stay on top of them."

Mr. Fields folded his hands, humming in consideration. "I agree. Is your team prepared to handle it?"

"We've been handling it, sir," I replied, passing him my iPad. I watched as he scanned my notes from the latest meeting. "I've already got Shannon and Carl assigned to plugging in new data whenever it's received."

Mr. Fields nodded, handing the iPad back to me. "Get Davidson as well- he'll help make sure we can handle the extra traffic. We don't want this crashing our website."

"Of course, sir," I nodded, standing up and walking out of the office. I made my way back toward my desk, taking a sip of my tea as I sat down. I send out a quick email to Phillip Davidson to find his way upstairs for questions as soon as he could.

After confirming a two o'clock appointment, I settled into my chair and finished writing up my latest article on the new president. I found myself having to go back in our archives to double check a few things, but an hour later, I sent the final draft to the editing department.

I went to take another swig of my tea, but noticed it was empty. I frowned, taking my mug and making the journey down to the break room. I knew I'd forgotten to restock my tea bags, so I'd have to settle for Earl Grey. I took my time making my tea, listening to the mixture of office chatter, phones ringing, and newscasters talking on tv. I poured in some milk, stirred it around, and took a sip, a smile on my face. I was home.

An hour or so later, I was sending out more emails when Davidson came by. "Sorry I was busy- you wanted to see me?"

"Yes!" I replied, quickly shutting my computer and standing up. "Good timing, too. I was about to go out to lunch. Mind if I grab Shannon and Carl?"

"N-No problem," Davidson replied nervously.

I paused before I left, taking the time to pat the young intern on the shoulder. "Relax, Phillip. You're not in trouble, I just need some help on a project."

A relieved sigh escaped his body, and I patted him again. "Meet you downstairs in the lobby, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

An amused grin on my face, I worked my way through the office to Shannon and Carl's desk units. I knocked on the cubical wall, and their heads shot up. "Lunch break's rolling around, and we need to talk about the timeline. Wanna go across the street?" I offered.

They shared a look before Shannon replied, "Sure. Give us two minutes to wrap up what we're doing. The press coverage today has been nonstop."

I laughed, "Don't I know it." I stopped by my desk to grab my purse before I headed to the elevator. The numbers counted down slowly as I descended, my head still filled with all the latest news and facts. As expected, Phillip was standing awkwardly by the door, waiting for me.

"Ready to go?" I asked. He nodded quickly, and I opened the door for him to follow me. The biting wind of early December hit me immediately, but we pressed on toward the cafe across the street. We found an empty table near the window, shrugging off our jackets before we sat down.

"So…what's all of this about?" Phillip questioned. I could still see a bit of concern in his eyes, but I turned my attention to the menu. Staring him down wouldn't help him feel calm.

"The timeline," I replied after a moment. I glanced up at him. "It's increased our online traffic by sixty-two percent. We don't have the technology to sustain that. We need to-"

"Increase the bandwidth and speed," he finished for me.

I nodded. "Precisely. Mr. Fields suggested you, and I think he's right. You're, what- a junior at NYU? And you're already assisting in lab work with your professors?"

Phillip pushed his glasses up his nose. "Sophomore, actually. B-But it's not a big deal, I'm sure anyone could-"

I smiled, holding up a hand for him to stop. "If anyone could, we wouldn't be having this problem. It would've already been fixed before the election even happened. We need you on our team, Phillip."

A tentative smile came onto the young man's face, and I couldn't help but smile back. He reminded me of myself when I'd gotten my first college internship. Earnest, eager to learn, but still doubting and lacking self confidence. I hoped this project would give him the boost he needed.

Shannon and Carl arrived a few minutes later, bringing the conversation of their most recent timeline additions with them. We chatted for at least an hour, discussing new ways to improve the functionality of the timeline without slowing down the processing.

"We need to update our computers, they're way too old," Shannon grumbled as we walked back into the office.

Phillip nodded his head in agreement. "Can you imagine if we got something like Stark technology? It's so advanced, they're not even selling it on the consumer market."

"I don't know if now is the time to buy anything from Stark Industries," Carl commented. "All of their stocks have been going crazy lately, especially after that fight in Ireland. I mean what were they thinking?"

"Yeah, didn't they destroy that old castle?" Shannon asked.

I sat down at my desk, their conversation drowning out the further away they walked. After a quick look at my email, I double checked to make sure all of my notes were ready for my two o'clock meeting. When the clock said it was five minutes beforehand, I made my way down to the conference room, ready to sit through at least an hour of business planning.

The meeting- though it didn't feel like it- lasted a mere forty five minutes, giving me the rest of the afternoon to get up to speed on the to-be president's predicted policies. My short research enquiry wound up lasting longer than anticipated. I was sucked in, my eyes absorbing the information each word gave me as I scrolled through endless interviews, articles, and twitter feeds.

Perhaps that's why I was startled when there was a knock on my cubical wall.

"Woah, hey there, sorry to startle you," a man's voice said.

I put a hand on my heart, turning slowly to look up at my co-worker, Jim. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry- I forgot our meeting at four, didn't I?"

Jim shrugged, a strand of his light brown hair falling into his eyes. "Don't worry about it, Elizabeth. I know you've been working hard these past two weeks to get all caught up."

I laughed, looking at the time. It was past closing hours. "Yeah, it's been pretty crazy. The news never stops flooding in, you know?"

"Oh I think everyone in this office knows," Jim replied quickly. There was a weird edge in his voice, but I ignored it. We needed to leave the building before they locked up for the night.

I reached for my things and shrugged on my coat, taking the time to turn off my lamp before I exited the cubical. Jim walked in front of me, pressing the elevator button for us to get on. The doors opened and closed again, and we were soon suffocated with silence as we descended.

"So, when would be a good time to reschedule?" I asked after a moment.

Jim tensed slightly, his hand reaching up to scratch his ear. "Well, I was actually wondering if you were free tonight. I know this really good place off fifth- nothing fancy, but it'd be a good place to, ah, talk about things."

My breath caught, and I suddenly realized that we were on two very different pages. "Jim, I'm so sorry, but I'm just not interested."

His face dropped just as the elevator dinged. I stepped through the open doors, stopping to give him one last look. "I'll see you for that meeting tomorrow."

I turned and began to walk toward the door, securing my scarf around my neck as I did so. I could hear his footsteps running up behind me, but I ignored him.

"There's someone else, isn't there?" he questioned. "You've been acting weird ever since you got back a few weeks ago. Who is he? Does he work in the office?"

My eyes turned to Jim, expression hard. "My denial of your offer does not imply that I have someone else. It simply means that I'm not interested." His face aghast, I turned on my heel and began my journey home.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since I'd last been at the base, since I'd left the world of gods and superheroes, aliens and androids. Two weeks of peace and quiet. Two weeks of being normal.

Part of me knew I couldn't keep doing this. I couldn't keep acting like nothing had happened, like it had all been some fanciful dream. The pistol on my bedside table proved that.

But I kept walking. I ignored the whispers of people on the street, the tv's in the shop windows that kept playing footage of the attack on repeat. It hadn't happened. Or at least, I hadn't been a part of it.

Fifteen minutes later, I reached my apartment. I dug for my keys in my purse and let myself in. I turned the lights on, set my things down, and picked up my phone.

"Hi, I'd like to order one medium pizza? Half cheese, half pepperoni…yes, delivery, please. Customer ID two two four nine one. Thank you very much."

I set my phone down and sat back on my bed, staring at the wall. A thousand images ran through my head. A basket of blankets shoved in a corner. The location of the popcorn in the kitchen. A blood stained t-shirt wrapped around my leg. The ruins of an old great hall. The pitch black hallway of the supposed safe house.

But then sounds came, too.

I heard laughter, then a broken sigh. The gentle whirring of engines, followed by the blasting music of AC/DC. Guns being fired, punches being thrown, explosions going off in the distance. The shattering of glass, and the slamming of protective metal coverings. Screams, then a gentle voice.

My eyes fluttered open, yet I never remembered closing them. They drifted over to the bedside table. My pistol hadn't moved an inch since I'd come home.

But then there was a knock at the door.

I tossed a blanket over the pistol, knowing that it'd be bad for some kid delivering pizza to see a fully loaded gun just sitting around. I scrambled for a twenty dollar bill, stuffed it in my pocket, and opened the door.

What I found was not what I'd been expecting.

Sorrowful blue eyes gazed into mine. "I'm sorry."


	25. Contradiction

**Contradiction**

DarylDixon'sLover: I feel like you're going to think Eliza's even more unfair in this chapter, so best of luck!

eyleenm4: Your review did make me feel a just a little bit guilty, but I love a good cliffhanger! And this chapter resolves it well, so it's all worth it in the end!

FanGirlForever19:Precisely! I think we all have a concept of "normal" though, and it's bound to change at different points in our lives.

LeeMinah92: You are very welcome! The next few updates are going to be just as great!

Demigod-GallagherGirl: This has got to be one of my favorite one word reviews, because it's just that feeling of "FINALLY".

SoraMalfoySlythern: Oh you just wait.

kuppcake: Thank you, as always!

Imwithyoutilltheendoftheline: Thank you! Good characters and a well written plot mean a lot to me, so I appreciate the fact that you appreciate it!

* * *

 _Sorrowful blue eyes gazed into mine. "I'm sorry."_

My heart was racing, but I forced myself to turn around and act casual as I walked away. "Do they know you're here?" my voice asked neutrally.

I heard James catch the door before it shut in his face. "No…but I knew they wouldn't let me come if I asked."

I made my way into the kitchen, deliberately keeping my distance as I went through the motions of making a cup of tea. He was hesitating by the door, his hands clasped together awkwardly.

'Good,' I thought. 'He should be worried.'

I made my tea in silence, all the while feeling his presence growing nearer. When I finally turned around, my eyes bore into his with anger.

"You disappeared," I stated calmly. There was an edge of warning in my voice, one that I knew he could hear. "You disappeared without even saying goodbye. I think I had the right to go back to how things were before."

James swallowed hard, his eyes lost as they turned to stare at the ground. "There wasn't any time-"

"Wasn't any time to make a minute long phone call?" I cut in. "Wasn't time to tell Steve to let me know? Wasn't time-"

"No, there wasn't," he insisted firmly. "You hadn't made up your mind yet, and they didn't want our communications to get picked up again-"

Overcome by anger, I walked away, my legs carrying me to the front hall. He followed me at a distance, wary.

My eyes drifted to the gun on my nightstand as I stood there, my back to him. "I came in the day after you left," I ground out through clenched teeth. I turned to look at him, head held high. "All I wanted was to see you. To talk about my options. I asked for no one else— just _you_. Only to be told that you'd left without a word the morning before." I approached him slowly, my voice level as I spoke. "How do you think that made me feel?"

James sighed, the fists he'd made slowly uncurling. "I had to make sure they were gone…I had to make sure you were safe."

Part of me secretly knew why he'd felt like he had no choice, why he _had_ to go. But the other part of me was still angry, still frustrated that I'd been left with no warning.

I crossed my arms, my eyes going to the floor. "So am I?" I whispered after a moment of silence. "Am I safe?"

I looked up in time to see James nod. "Took care of their last hideout two days ago…and then came straight back to find you. I thought you'd be at the base, not here."

My jaw clenched defensively. "Well, you being gone made the decision easy."

James took a step forward, but I took one back. His eyes stared into mine, pleading silently. "Eliza, I'm sorry. I know I should've told you, but I couldn't. And I know you're mad at me, and I understand that. But please…" he trailed off, his hand reaching out hesitantly to touch my face. I turned away, and he sighed. "Eliza, please come home. You'd be safer there…you'd be safer with me."

A humorless laugh left my lips. "Would I? Because I don't remember worrying about getting shot before I met you."

James' eyes looked broken. "Eliza-"

"I was fine!" I burst, the words echoing in the silence. "I was safe before I went there. I wasn't running for my life, I wasn't hiding, and I most certainly wasn't being taken away from my friends and family."

I knew my words were hurting him, but I couldn't stop them. They were the truth. I stopped to get a handle on my breathing, my eyes drifting over to the gun once more. I took in a shaky breath, my throat feeling tight. "A-And now…now all I hear are the bullets. The battles." I looked up at him, my eyes full of desperation. "I want to go back to how things were, James. I can't deal with all this. I'm not a soldier. I wasn't meant to be."

A moment of silence passed before he whispered, "You don't have to be."

I could feel a tear roll down my cheek, but I tried to keep my voice strong. "Then let me be _here_."

I watched as frustration slowly overcame his face. His shoulder twitched as he turned his back, then again when he turned to face me. "I didn't have to go, Eliza," he said, his tone a mixture of anger and vulnerability. "I wanted to see you. I wanted to be with you, but I knew I couldn't. Not until I knew that the danger was gone." His eyes stared into mine, and he started to move forward. "I left just to make sure you were safe-"

"Nobody asked you to," I shot back stubbornly. My back hit the door behind me.

James came forward, his body towering over me. "They didn't have to."

My breath caught as my brain finally processed how close he was. I could see him breathing, the way the fabric of his shirt moved with each heavy inhale and exhale. Then I noticed how his hair had grown a bit longer, and how the usual shadow of stubble on his face had darkened over the past two weeks. His intoxicating scent reached my nose, and I found all of my residual anger slowly fading away.

My eyes looked up into his, searching. "If I go-"

"I'll be there to protect you," he promised.

I nodded shakily. "…and if I stay?"

A broken look entered his eyes. "Then this is our goodbye."

I swallowed hard, feeling trapped. What did I want more— my life or him?

"Eliza," he whispered, drawing my eyes back to look at him. His blue eyes softened, and a metal hand came up to smooth my hair behind my ear. "Come with me. Please."

An uncontainable grin came onto my face, and I shut my eyes to block him out. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" he asked. I opened my eyes and saw the smile that I'd heard in his voice.

"Use that voice you do when you try to change my mind," I replied shyly.

James smiled and shook his head. "I learned it from you."

A smile bloomed on my face, and I gave in to the urge for me to run a hand through his hair. "I've missed you, James."

"I've missed you too, Eliza," he whispered.

And just like that, the wall between us broke down. I found myself in his arms, my hands clutching at his shirt as I breathed in his scent. A heavy sigh ran through my body before I relaxed against him.

"I'm sorry," my voice cracked after a minute had passed. "I was just so mad, and I didn't know where you'd gone, and-"

"Shh, it's okay," he whispered, his hand stroking my back gently. "I'm sorry, too. I should've found a way to tell you."

We stood there for a while, taking in each other's presence. Two weeks without each other had felt like two decades. When we parted, I found myself glancing down at his lips. The image of them had been torturing me for weeks. But then I noticed that they were moving.

"…you'll come back, won't you?" he was asking.

A thousand thoughts ran through my head all at once, but my decision was clear. He mattered more.

"Yes."


	26. Introspection

**Introspection**

Spoiler Alert: If you haven't seen Thor Ragnarok, then know that there is a teeny tiny spoiler in this story (honestly, you may not even notice it). I made the change because this story is set in my head-cannon after Infinity Wars, so I want to keep the characters up to date as we get more information in the MCU.

DarylDixon'sLover: Can you imagine how cruel of a person I would be if I just didn't let her go back? Like that would just be awful.

FanGirlForever19: I love it, too (then again, I'm rather biased)!

eyleenm4: Honestly, the funny thing is that I love writing cliffhangers but hate reading them. It causes such a strange cognitive dissonance with my reading and writing sides.

Rohirrim Girl 2187: Welcome to the family! Hope you continue to enjoy! This chapter I made a bit more comical to make up for all the drama of the past few.

Demigod-GallagherGirl: This is one of my favorite chapters too, and for the same reason- emotion! Writing verbally and emotionally heated scenes is my favorite, for some reason, and the best thing to help with it is listening to a song that matches the mood. The one I used for this is "An Old Friend" from Captain America The Winter Soldier. If you go back and read the chapter while listening to it, it really amplifies everything.

SoraMalfoySlythern: Oh don't you worry, Tony will definitely be getting more involved in the relationship! I think he just can't help but meddle a little, but he has good intentions.

SummerMistedDragon: Thanks and welcome aboard!

* * *

 _"…you'll come back, won't you?" he was asking._

 _A thousand thoughts ran through my head all at once, but my decision was clear. He mattered more._

 _"Yes."_

"Honestly, Bruce, you didn't have to help," I insisted, shaking my head.

The timid scientist set a box down on my desk, a shy grin on his face. "I know. I'm just hoping it'll help convince you to be my assistant."

I leaned against the wall, my arms crossing. "I have no experience in any scientific field-"

"But you have experience with people," he pointed out. "And that's something we can always use in my office."

I shrugged casually, unconvinced. The doctor simply rolled his eyes. He moved to sit down on top of my desk, fixing me with a look. "You helped predict A.I.M.'s strategy. That's using human nature, not science. We'd run every single test we could, and only when it lined up with your data and intuition did things start to make sense."

I hummed, taking a moment to look around my office as his words sunk in. My new room was in the heart of the compound, equidistant to everyone so that no matter what I was needed for, they could find me quickly. My eyes caught sight of Tony out in the snow, testing his latest invention just beyond the window. An amused smile came onto my face when I heard him swear colorfully.

Bruce walked toward me, his eyes following mine as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "He's been dealing with anxiety for years," he said suddenly. My confused eyes met his before he looked back out the window. "Had to up his dosage after the whole Sokovian Accords deal."

My gaze softened, wondering why this was the first time I'd heard of this.

The scientist turned to look me in the eye. "We all need help, Elizabeth. Being my assistant doesn't just mean mixing alien chemicals together to see what happens."

I nodded, my arms uncrossing as I rolled the idea around in my head.

Bruce seemed content with my reaction, and he walked over to open the door. "Get back to me in a week, okay?"

"I will," I replied.

He nodded, then shut the door behind him.

I sat down in my new chair, taking note of the box of files Bruce had left on my desk. I opened it slowly, finding a note on top of a stack of papers.

 **"Read up. They're your clients, now.**

 **-Coulson"**

A smile on my face, I began to take the files out one by one. A minute later, the secrets and stories of Earth's mightiest heroes laid spread out before me. Time to get to work.

* * *

The first occurrence happened my second day in the new office.

It raised a few eyebrows, of course. But it was obvious who had done it.

"James, did you put this board with dog pictures up on my wall?" I asked sternly.

"…possibly," his all too innocent voice came over the phone line. It sounded like he'd just woken up. "They're all dogs at a local adoption shelter."

I quirked an eyebrow, even though he couldn't see it. "And why did you feel the need to put them in my office?"

"I looked in there the other day. It was boring."

I sighed, looking around the sparsely decorated room and begrudgingly agreeing with him. "I didn't have much time to do anything before I had to get to work. I was going to get around to decorating it at some point. Just…" I trailed off, a small grin coming onto my face as I looked at the puppy pictures. "Just let me know if you have an idea next time, okay? And you can show me pictures tonight on my computer, alright?"

A sigh came over the phone line. "I can't— night ops. Just practice, but Steve insisted on it. Something about me being sloppy last time."

I snorted, the petulant tone in his remark evident. "Mmhm. I'll see you tomorrow, then. And don't break into my office without locking it back, okay?"

"I won't!"

I should've known better.

* * *

The second occurrence was much more subtle, but still gathered plenty of curious looks through the glass pane that lead into my office.

"So, uh…" Steve trailed off awkwardly. His eyes flickered to the potted flowers that had appeared on my window ledge overnight. "You'll be joining us for the movie tonight, right? Sam said you'd planned it."

I bit back a laugh at his behavior. He wanted to ask, I could tell, but something told him it'd be rude. So instead, I acted natural.

"Yup, it's called 'Bridge of Spies'. I watched it when it first came out, and I thought it was pretty good. It'll help you understand parts of the Cold War a bit more," I explained, straightening the files on my desk. I got up from my desk and went over to the flowers, picking up a miniature watering can as I went. I could feel Steve's eyes on me as I casually began to water the flowers, taking my time with each one.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. "You, ah…I see you got something to liven up the room."

I turned to him with a confused expression, acting innocent.

"And ah…" he coughed. "The walls, too. They look, um, nice."

I smiled suddenly, taking in the new pale yellow shade I'd asked FRIDAY for. "Yeah, I'm really happy with them!"

Steve looked shifted uncomfortably. I could sense he really wanted to ask about the flowers, but he resisted. This was getting fun.

A minute of silence passed before he walked toward the door. "See you tonight," he nodded shortly.

The moment he was out of sight, I burst out laughing.

* * *

The third occurrence had whispers going around the compound.

"Your admirer does not seem to be very straightforward in his attempts for your affections," Thor stated as soon as he sat down.

An amused smile came onto my face as I passed him a cup of coffee. My eyes glanced over to what I'd deemed the puppy board, taking in the array of notes that had appeared over the past few days. I turned back to the man in front of me, choosing to not comment on the notes. "So, what brings you here?" I asked.

Thor seemed to toss the question around in his head for a moment. "The Son of Coul suggested you, Lady Elizabeth. You have been kind to my friends, and I hoped you would offer that same amicable nature to me."

"Of course," I nodded genially. "It's my job to help the Avengers team in whatever way I can."

"That is good," Thor replied hesitantly. His eye scanned mine for lies, and once he was satisfied that he'd found none, he continued. "I have been struggling with a…difficult matter for quite some time now," he confessed openly.

I tilted my head to the side. "And what might that be?"

I watched as the god of thunder pulled a phone out of his pants pocket. "I have been given this tablet as a means of communicating with my team members," he told me with a confused expression. "Yet I haven't been given a lesson in how to use it."

Frowning, I got up from my desk. "Well that's not very useful, is it?" I muttered, sitting down in the chair next to him. Thor held the phone out to me, and I grimaced when I saw the Stark Industries logo on top. "Let's figure it out together, okay?"

* * *

That night, I made my way back to my room with a grin, wondering what I would find the next morning. I walked down the hallway, my feet already familiar with their new path. My room had been positioned above James', just as Fury promised.

I approached my door with confidence, appreciating how it slid aside the moment my DNA scan was complete. But before I could enter, I heard footsteps down the hall. My head turned, and I was met with a very casually dressed yet awkward looking Miss Romanov.

"Hey, Elizabeth," she greeted uncomfortably. "I know we don't talk much…not really at all, and that's my fault. I just, um, well, I thought that we could chat?"

My eyes scanned for anyone nearby. She looked nervous, as though she'd never been so candid with anyone before. It was probably best if no one else was around.

"Did you need something in particular?" I asked curiously, leaning against the wall next to my doorway.

She shook her head. "No, no, I just thought I should…warn you."

A sense of dread started to wash over me, but I nodded.

Miss Romanov let out a sigh. "I see what's going on between you and Barnes, and I want you to understand something. Being with people like him…people like us, it's not easy," she told me bluntly. "We have a lot in our past that people like you can't even imagine."

I shrugged calmly. "I've read the case files."

Miss Romanov gave me a pitying look. "That's not the same as living it."

"I know," I replied, my voice unwavering. "But I can't live it. I can't understand what it's like to be controlled like that, to be forced to do things you couldn't dream of. I'm not there to understand— he has you guys for that. I'm there to be his friend."

A knowing grin came onto her face. "And anything else?"

I blushed suddenly, not knowing how to reply. After a moment, I decided on my answer. "I'll move when he does."

Miss Romanov nodded understandingly, suddenly turning around to leave. But she stopped short, taking a moment to look at me. "Tony's throwing another one of his parties soon. Thought I'd give you a heads up."

I smiled genuinely. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

She nodded in return, but hesitated. "Barnes might not…he might not be as forward as you'd like him to be. Emotions don't come easy when they've been suppressed for so long."

I considered it for a moment, then shrugged. "I think he'll be fine."

Miss Romanov smiled before she left, leaving me with the impression that I'd just gained yet another friend on the compound.  
The random conversation over, I entered my room and flopped down on the bed, sighing happily. I'd chosen a fluffy white duvet, and thus far had been more than pleased with it.

It was then I remembered Coulson said my room would be finished today. I sat up and took a look, pleased with what I found. There was a knotted jute rug in the middle of the room, and all around were a variety of pillows and blankets. I noted that a bookshelf similar to James' had been installed, and on it sat my eclectic collection of books and old vinyls.

"Hey FRIDAY? Could you change the wall color to what my old room used to be?" I requested.

"Yes, Miss Elizabeth. You should also know that a voice message has been left for you."

I nodded. "Go ahead and play it, please."

There was a beep, and then a crackle before James' voice reverberated throughout the room. "Hey, Eliza. I just wanted you to know that I'll be busy the next few days. I'll try to find time to swing by, okay? I have more dogs I want you to look at."

An amused smile came onto my face as I listened. I could hear his breath during the pause, almost as though he wasn't sure if he wanted to say his next thought or not. And then-

"Sleep well, Eliza."

I most certainly did.


	27. Instigation

**Instigation**

DarylDixon'sLover: Oh you just wait, it's about to get cuter.

FanGirlForever19: Yes! Steve was based off a friend of mine who's kinda socially awkward, and I just love the idea that Steve doesn't quite know if it's proper to ask about romantic relationships (kinda like the fondue moment in The First Avenger).

SummerMistedDragon: Thank you! I'm trying to make these chapters happy after all the drama of the last few.

JularaVon: Thanks, and welcome aboard!

Anime1FREAK: I update every Saturday! P.S. Love the name, I just started getting into anime myself and am currently on a Free! high.

* * *

 _An amused smile came onto my face as I listened. I could hear his breath during the pause, almost as though he wasn't sure if he wanted to say his next thought or not. And then-_

 _"Sleep well, Eliza."_

 _I most certainly did._

It was just a few minutes after Sam had stopped by to ask if a person named T'Challa had taken the time to pop into my office. At my confused look, he'd turned away grumbling about getting a cat out of his room, so I took it that he wasn't happy. I'd shrugged and gotten back to work, not entirely sure what I could do about the situation.

Now, I was typing away steadily at my desk, a thousand thoughts running through my head as I did so. Tony had finally announced his party, and as expected, I'd been invited to tag along. Coulson's words about being in the spotlight echoed through my head, though I tried my best to ignore them. I wasn't even sure if I'd be going, after all.

I stopped my typing to take a breather. My eyes drifted up to the window, where a strand of Christmas lights had "mysteriously" appeared two days ago. A small grin came onto my face. He'd gotten back from a quick security entourage the previous night, and I had the feeling I knew where he'd been before he stopped by my room at 2am to alert me of his homecoming.

It had become a recent habit of his. Any time he was away, he'd always stop by when he got back to let me know he was okay. It was a small gesture, but it was certainly appreciated. My eyes wandered over the string of lights, down to the sill filled with plants, and to the cork board filled with puppy photos. He'd certainly helped fill up my office.

Speak of the devil, I felt a sudden stirring of his presence. I spun around in my chair, not surprised when I saw him shutting the glass door gently behind him. At first I smiled, but then I paused. His shoulders were tense. His hands were fidgeting. His eyes were on the floor. Something was wrong.

"Hey, James. How'd it all go?" I asked carefully. I got up from my desk and made my way around to stand in front of him. I tried to peer into his eyes to get a clue as to what was bothering him, but he kept them trained on the ground.

"It was good," he replied shortly.

I nodded. "I'm glad." My answer was honest, but I was trying to keep myself from asking him directly what was wrong. I knew how he was. He would tell me if he needed to talk about anything. Asking questions wouldn't help.

I watched as his hands fidgeted a bit, and then as he stuffed them into his pockets to hide the nervous twitch. So he was aware that he was acting odd.

I stepped forward, my mouth open to point out what I'd just seen, but his words stopped me.

"Would you like to come to the gala with me?"

My brain made a one-eighty. That was not what I'd been expecting. I blinked, trying to process what had just happened and how this had caught me so off guard.

"Y-Yes, of course!" I finally said a good five seconds later.

A dubious grin came onto his face. "That didn't sound hesitant at all."

I laughed awkwardly. "I know, I'm sorry. Yes, I'd love to go with you. I just didn't think that's why you were acting weird."

James' eyes acknowledged the fact that I'd picked up on his nervousness, but he didn't comment out loud. "I'm sorry I'm asking late. I really did mean to ask sooner," he apologized earnestly.

I waved a flippant hand. "It's okay, really. We've both been busy lately."

A wistful look glazed over James' eyes. "Yeah…" he agreed. Suddenly, I found myself in his arms, being held tight. I felt like I could breathe again, his comforting aura surrounding me all at once. I picked up the scent of a new cologne on his collar, and I had to fight back an appreciative moan.

After a moment, we separated, the previously awkward air in the office replaced by reassuring familiarity. Even then, we held onto each other. I was distracted by his hair, noticing how some of the strands were out of place. I felt his amused eyes on me as I fixed the locks, smoothing them back into order. Once I was done, my eyes met his, and that insatiable tugging had returned.

Our eyes had just begun to shut when-

 _ **BEEP**_

I wanted to groan out loud, but I bit my tongue. After untangling myself, I went over to my desk to see a notification on the comm. It was marked as urgent.

My eyes were apologetic when they flashed up to his. "I'm sorry, I have to-"

James simply shook his head in understanding. "It's fine, Eliza. I'll see you after work, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded. My voice betrayed my wistfulness. My eyes followed him as he walked out, then became annoyed the second the door shut. Who was calling at such an inconvenient time? I found out when I pressed the accept button.

"Wow, that sexual tension was just unbearable— FRIDAY felt so awkward, she had to frost the walls."

I rolled my eyes. Of course.

"She does that every time I have a private appointment, Tony," I informed him airily. I could hear his cocky grin over the comm for getting a rise out of me, but I couldn't help it. "It's for the-"

"-confidentiality of the client, I know."

I jumped and turned around to find Tony entering my office. A phone in one hand and a packet of blueberries in another, the suited billionaire looked as casual as ever.

"Just couldn't spy on my office in a t-shirt, huh?"

"Nope," he popped as he pocketed the phone. He fell into a chair and stretched out, looking at me expectantly. I simply crossed my arms and stood my ground. Tony rolled his eyes. "I get it. You're mad. Invasion of privacy and all that."

I pursed my lips. "Um, yeah, kinda."

A careless grin came onto his face. "Get used to it, Lizzie. Cameras, red carpets, spotlights— they don't care about your privacy."

"Then I'd appreciate you not taking the small part of it I have left," I replied shortly.

He nodded his head back and forth. "Fair point. Still, you two have a lot to work on. Maybe find a different room to have secret meetings in."

I raised an eyebrow at him, pointedly ignoring his last remark. "I'm sure we'll figure things out just fine on our own, thank you."

My words were laced with acid, but it didn't faze the billionaire. If anything, it only made him more serious. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes studying me. We stayed like this for a minute, each silently staring the other down in challenge.

Then suddenly, he got up and slapped something down on my desk. I looked down at it, confused when I saw a debit card with his name on it.

"I want my guests looking good," Tony said as he got up from the chair. He went over to open the door and looked back at me to wink. "Get yourself something nice!" he shouted, the door slamming behind him.

* * *

"Well I think you've needed a bit of a shopping trip after all you've gone through lately," my mom was saying as we walked down the sidewalk. "I mean, it hasn't been that long since the crash, and now you're changing jobs and going to another party at that tower? You never seem to get a break!"

I grinned, but shrugged. "Life's always crazy, things have just been happening in high concentration lately. I have the feeling things will settle down soon."

My mom shook her head before she pulled me into the fifth store we'd been in so far. "And now you have a man, too? You really need to update me more!" she said, waving her phone in my face.

I laughed and pushed it aside. "I know, I know. Hopefully we can catch up more next week at Christmas." My mom nodded in agreement, and we set to work looking through more racks of dresses. I tried to stop myself from looking at price tags, even though I felt bad about having Tony's card in my wallet. He'd even texted me the pin number and everything, but it still felt wrong.

I could hear my mom humming from the other side of the rack. "What's your budget again, honey?"

A quick shot of anxiety ran through my heart, but I kept my voice casual when I replied, "Oh, don't worry about it. Christmas bonus and all that."

"If you're sure!" I looked up and saw my excited mother come around the corner, a large red dress in hand. I raised an eye at the color choice, but she gave me a look. "It's Christmas, honey. I'm sure the tower will be decorated for the holidays. You'll blend right in."

"Yes, because bright red really blends in," I murmured sarcastically. I had to admit that the dress was pretty. The price tag flashed before my eyes, and I had to turn my head away. If Tony said it was okay, then it was okay.

I focused my eyes back on the dress. It really was pretty. "Take it back to the dressing rooms," I finally caved. "I'll keep looking and come back in a moment." My mom nodded before she disappeared in the back of the store. I sighed, carelessly flipping through dress after dress on the clothes rack. None of them compared to that dress, and I knew it.

After a minute of mindless looking, I finally went back to the dressing room.

"…and she's looking for a dress for the gala at Avengers Tower!" my mom was saying when I entered. I kept myself from cringing when I saw that a small crowd had gathered around her. When I entered, all eyes turned on me.

"Oh, Eliza!" my mom smiled. "This one is for you." She waved at an open dressing room, and in it hung the red dress.

"Thanks," I replied, hoping my smile didn't look to awkward. The room had gotten way too quiet all of the sudden. I waded through the posse of women, feeling all of their curious eyes follow me before I shut the door. I breathed a sigh of relief and promptly slumped against the wall. And this was only the beginning of the spotlight.

Reluctantly, I put on the dress and stepped out of the dressing room.

But instead of a simple approving nod from my mom, the ever growing crowd shouted a resounding, "YES!"


	28. Adoption

**Adoption**

DarylDixon'sLover: I know it was a typo, but when I got an email that said your review was "grey chapter," it really made me giggle. Thanks!

FanGirlForever19: Precisely! I think Eliza's thing against attention comes a lot from myself- I'm good one on one, but I hate lots of attention from tons of people. Also, it means that her actions will constantly be watched and judged, so it's a lot of pressure to be in the spotlight!

LadyAmazon: I am so glad you pointed out the blueberry packet, because I am so intentional about putting little things in my stories like that! Tony with his blueberries always made me so happy.

Rohirrim Girl 2187: I feel like there is always a certain kind of mom character that is easy and stereotypical to write, so it makes me happy that you related to this one and didn't find her stale!

Iykaioski: Thank you and welcome aboard! I'm always open for new ideas, recommendations, etc! The concept came from a pinterest/tumblr post- I tried to track it down to find out who wrote it and contact them, but I could never find it again.

kuppcake: Bless Tony, he just has to interrupt everything (he means well, though!).

Demigod-GallagherGirl: Oh you just wait, James gets cuter in this one.

SummerMistedDragon: Thank you! You're so lucky that you read it kinda late in the week, because now you get another chapter the next day!

* * *

 _Reluctantly, I put on the dress and stepped out of the dressing room._

 _But instead of a simple approving nod from my mom, the ever growing crowd shouted a resounding, "YES!"_

Three days.

Yeah, it shouldn't have felt that long, but it did. Especially since I knew he was on base the entire time. At this point, my teeth were starting to ache unwittingly clenching them so much. I tried loosening my jaw a few times, but every time it would tighten up again, my teeth grinding together in frustration.

Three freaking days.

And this wasn't normal at all. He always stopped by the office to say hello or knocked on my bedroom door at night if he'd had a late meeting.

The first day, I thought he'd maybe felt a bit shy about the whole going-to-the-gala-together thing. But when I'd asked Steve, he'd said that James seemed excited, not nervous. On day two, I was starting to wonder if he was extra busy this week. But when Coulson came in and handed me the weekly schedule of all the Avengers, I saw that his schedule was completely normal. And today, I was just mad.

But I knew I had to calm down. Sam was finally bringing (more like dragging) in a very important man by the name of T'Challa, and I had to be calm for our appointment. According to Sam, the guy could see right through you if he wanted.

Just as I was smoothing out my dress, there was a knock on my door. Sam waved at me, and I noticed the other dark-skinned man behind him. I motioned for him to come in, watching the glass wall frost as they entered.

I stood up and inclined my head. Though I'd been informed that he was in fact the King of the African country of Wakanda, I'd also been told that he hated formalities. Thus, I kept it to a minimum.

"Hi, I'm Elizabeth," I greeted with a smile, holding out my hand. T'Challa came forward and shook my hand firmly.

His dark eyes searched mine for a moment before he said, "You are not the person I expected."

I tilted my head slightly. His tone didn't indicate any rude intent, just curiosity. "And what did you expect?"

T'Challa glanced Sam. "Another person who would try to berate me for how I have handled my grief."

"I told him you were a psychologist," Sam chipped in.

I nodded slowly, deciding that sitting down would be the best tactic. Both men followed my lead. "I only studied psychology in school," I corrected lightly. "My job here is to help the Avengers in any way I can— to be a guide in this century for some, and to be a friend to others. Seeing as how you do not fall into the former category, I will be a friend. And a friend doesn't lecture another on how to deal with hardships."

Sam leaned over and whispered, "I told you she's good."

A grin came onto my face, but I remained as serious as I could. "I guess Sam convinced you to come here?"

"Convinced is a funny word when it comes to this man," T'Challa commented, his voice a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "But yes, to answer your question, I did come because of him."

I leaned forward to indicate that I was listening. "And what are you here for?"

T'Challa's eyes suddenly seemed distant. "My…my father. He was killed during the signing of the Sokovia Accords."

A grim look came over my face. I remembered the headline in the news— I'd only been an intern back then, but that was the day where everything in the office changed. The world was no longer the same, and we all knew it.

I glanced at Sam, and he too seemed solemn. I turned my eyes back on T'Challa, taking in his posture. His shoulders had been perfectly straight when he walked in. Now, they were bent, as though the weight of the world had fallen on him. His hands were fidgeting, and that's when I noticed he was playing with a silver ring on his left hand.

T'Challa suddenly opened his mouth to speak, but no words could come out. I saw a stray tear role down his cheek, and I quickly got up to hand him a tissue. Sam put a comforting hand on his shoulder. The young king couldn't be more than five years older than me, and here he was, not knowing how to deal with his grief just like anyone else.

Finally, he found the voice to speak. "H-He was taken from me before I could learn how to rule," he choked out. "Before I could learn to be as great a king as him. And at the time…I was able to forgive the man who killed him. But now…"

I gave him a pitying look. "Now it's still hard to bear the burden. To rule without his guidance."

T'Challa nodded, sniffling lightly. I handed him another tissue, and he accepted it. I went back around to my desk, pulled out a pen and paper, and looked at him gently. "Let's get started on helping you, okay?"

The young king nodded. "Okay."

* * *

Two hours later, I was packing up my things and making sure all the tissues were in the trash can. I felt drained, not only from the emotional outpouring that had just taken place in my office, but mostly because of the fact that I had no one to lean on to help with it. My mind drifted to James, and I didn't even have the energy to clench my teeth. He was supposed to be there for me, right? At least that's how things had been before the whole gala thing happened.

With a sigh of resignation, I picked up my purse and began to walk toward the door. Before I could open it, however, a not-too-welcomed face appeared in my way.

"Eliza, I have something to show you," he said, his face betraying his excitement.

But I gave him a dull stare, choosing to push past him. "Is this something the thing that's been keeping you busy the past few days?"

I could almost hear James' face fall. "Yes?" he answered hesitantly.

"Not sure if I'm interested, then," I replied, my tone weary. I knew I was being rude, but I almost couldn't help it. I was tired from work and frustrated at him, and those two didn't mix very well. But then I could feel my hand being pulled back, and I was face to face with pleading eyes.

"I'm sorry, I know I should've stopped by," he was saying. His eyes gazed into mine, silently trying to get me to understand. "But it really is important, and I want you to come with me."

I sighed heavily. "Fine, just let me pick up a protein shake from my room first."

James' eyes brightened, and I couldn't ignore the fact that it made me want to smile. "I'll be in hanger five, the blue-"

"I know, I know, the blue Honda," I finished for him. I turned around and made my way toward the residential side of the compound, walking in a zombie-like daze. When I got to my room, I made quick work of getting changed into something warmer and downing a protein shake before I headed out to hanger five. As soon as I located the car and got in, I noticed that he was playing jazz.

I tilted my head. "Found the CD's I left you, huh?"

He nodded. "Steve showed me how to play them in the car. I didn't know you could do that before."

I nodded sleepily, my eyelids feeling heavy. The car ride wasn't terribly long, maybe thirty minutes or so. Then again, I wasn't sure, because I had the soothing sounds of jazz slowly sending me to sleep. A gentle hand awoke me, and I opened my eyes to see a little cabin.

"We're here," James informed me softly. "I know you're confused- it's very different on the inside from the outside."

I shrugged. At this point, I'd been weirder places before. We got out of the car, and I followed him up the steps, my curiosity growing as my mind woke up. When we entered, I had to blink to adjust to the bright lights. By the time I could see, I immediately understood what had been taking up his time the past few days.

A big German Shepherd was racing toward him, skidding on the tile floors in his eagerness to get to the man next to me. James had fallen onto his knees with his arms wide open, and as soon as the dog got near, he hugged him and scratched his ears. I watched the pair interact, unaware that a smile had come onto my face. After a moment, I kneeled down next to James, reaching out a hand to pet the dog too.

James' sparkling eyes met mine. "His name is Benjamin. He used to work for the NYPD, but had to quit after he got hurt on the job." He looked down, and I followed his gaze. It was then I realized that Benjamin had a knub for one of his back paws. My heart melted. Of course James would pick this dog.

"I've been working on all the paperwork, figuring out a safe place to put a fence on the compound," James continued. "I'll be able to bring him home next week when it's all done."

We shared a smile, and any residual anger I had faded away.

* * *

"I feel silly now-"

"No, don't. You had every right to be confused. I should've stopped by."

I turned and leaned against the door frame. "You really should've," I tossed back semi-jokingly.

He chuckled, a hand coming up to run through his hair. "Yeah, I know." His blue eyes shined bright in the hallway, even as the lights began to dim. After all, it was nearly ten. People were starting to turn in for the night.

There was a pause between us, one that was all too common now. I cast my eyes to the ground, my hands clasped awkwardly in front of me. I vaguely wondered how long we were going to walk this tightrope, how long we were going to act like everything was normal. But then he stepped closer, and I looked up to meet his eyes.

He seemed unsure, and I realized that this wasn't like past times. We weren't caught up in a moment, instead he was taking the time to make sure that what he was doing was okay. I found that I appreciated this change in pace. It seemed more serious, more earnest, more real.

His hands were cupping my face. I was acutely aware of the fact that one was warm skin and the other was cool metal, but I found that I didn't mind. It was a part of him, and I was more than willing to accept it. My hands slid up to rest around his neck, and I played with some of the locks there. His eyes were gazing into mine, asking for permission. I gave my answer by closing my eyes.

My heart was racing, but my mind was calm. I could feel his warmth all around me, allaying my worries. Then I could feel his warm breath, could feel his hesitation. He was incredibly close, so close that I wanted to open my eyes to peek, but I resisted. He had just started to move closer, but as always, we were cut off.

"Hey Elizabeth, do you know where Bucky- oh…"

I whirled around to see a very uncomfortable looking Steve staring at the floor. He managed a glance up, but when his eyes drifted to where James' hand rested on my waist, he put his head down again.

"I was just, ah-" he stuttered. "I'll just be going, then."

Steve walked away, leaving us in silence. But soon, we both burst out in laughter.

"Gosh, we are never going to get a break, are we?" James chuckled.

I smiled broadly, reaching up and smoothing a stray hair back in its place. "No, no we really aren't."

He smiled back at me, his eyes lighting up before he took my hand and placed a gentle kiss on it. My heart felt like it was melting, even after he walked away with a simple "goodnight".


	29. Dictation

**Dictation**

DarylDixon'sLover: Yes, we all just needed a dog in this story, don't you think?

LadyAmazon: Precisely! It was probably back in one of the chapters around 13 or so, but it was mentioned in there that Bucky could get a therapy dog, hence why I decided to follow through on it now!

FanGirlForever19: One word: Steve. He's based on a friend of mine, who is always super awkward about romantic stuff.

SummerMistedDragon: "Awww" is correct! I love how everyone just loves dogs, it's so great.

Unajet: Seeing support for Steve in this story makes me so happy, because even though he's not the main character, he matters so much.

Guest: Hello, there! No one is forcing you to read the story, so if it's not your type of story, then feel free to not read it anymore. It won't hurt my feelings. I write what I want to because it's fun, not because I think my readers deserve a certain "reward."

kuppcake: Thank you! T'challa is one of my favorite additions to the MCU, and I am over the moon excited about Black Panther in February!

Demigod-GallagherGirl: YES THE DOG - honestly, I love how many dog people read this story, most of these reviews were about the dog and it was so cute.

Rohirrim Girl 2187: Your review basically sums up the entire chapter, so yes to all of it! The ragtag misfits group will grow even more with time!

* * *

 _"Gosh, we are never going to get a break, are we?" James chuckled._

 _I smiled broadly, reaching up and smoothing a stray hair back in its place. "No, no we really aren't."_

 _He smiled back at me, his eyes lighting up before he took my hand and placed a gentle kiss on it. My heart felt like it was melting, even after he walked away with a simple "goodnight"._

I woke up the next morning to a ray of sunlight shining in my eyes, and that's when it hit me. The gala was tonight. I rolled my eyes and stuffed my face in a pillow. I had the day off, and I was going to make the most of it.

"FRIDAY, black out the windows," I grumbled.

"Morning, sunshine!" a familiar voice replied.

I turned over and glared up at the speaker on the ceiling. "Tony, I swear, if you don't have FRIDAY put these shades down so I can go back to sleep, I will-"

"No can do, sunshine!" Tony's voice replied cheerily. My eyes drifted lazily over to the clock. It was barely seven. I groaned and covered my head with the duvet.

Tony tsked. "Oh, none of that, Lizzie. Get up and get going! You've got a busy day ahead!"

"I have until six to get ready," my muffled voice shot back.

"Lizzie, it takes me three hours to pick out a _suit_ ," Tony informed me haughtily. "Trust me, you need to get up. And I saw you and Manchurian candidate on the monitors last night, and if you two don't kiss by the end of the night, I'm gonna lose a bet to the bird-men, so you'd better-"

"FRIDAY, turn off my comm."

"Don't you dare-"

"Yes, Miss Elizabeth."

* * *

I rolled out of bed hours later. My curly hair looked like a lion's mane, the bags under my eyes were as dark as could be, and I smelled like I hadn't showered in days. Yup, definitely ready for a gala.

But I took my time getting ready. I had the longest shower of my life, shaving every square inch of my legs and scrubbing my body down with my favorite body wash and sugar scrub. My tangled hair took the longest the wash, seeing as how I was constantly fighting knots. Work life really hadn't been good to my fussy curls.

After I got out and managed to get my hair semi-dry, I made my way down to the cafeteria in jeans and a t-shirt. It was oddly empty, though I was running a bit late for breakfast. Plus, all the people who still had to work today had probably already been in and out. I took my time getting breakfast. Unlike Tony, it didn't take me ages to get ready for big events. I was already showered, and it wasn't like makeup was going to take me four hours. I was going to enjoy my day off, even if it was just sitting around and doing nothing.

For the rest of my day, I scrolled through hairstyles and makeup ideas on Pinterest, struggled to paint my nails, and listened to documentaries as I did so. I tried a few of the styles I found online, but none of it seemed to work. My hair just wound up looking weird or my eyeshadow like I'd been punched in the face. By the time I decided I needed to get ready, I really had no idea what I was going for, I just hoped I looked half decent.

In the end, I went with my usual makeup routine, my favorite nude lipstick, and some shimmery cream eye shadow with a light matte brown crease. I traded out my glasses for a new pair of black cat eyes that had shown up on my dresser (the tag had been marked Tony, and I really didn't want to know how he got access to my prescription or my pupil distance), then stared at myself in the mirror. My curly hair was still hanging down around me as usual, and I simply couldn't figure out what to do. After a few more failed Pinterest attempts, I settled for piling it up on my head in what I hoped was an elegant up do.

Just as I was pinning back a few wayward curls, FRIDAY's comm pinged. "Mr. Stark is outside your door. Shall I let him in?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

Unsurprisingly, Tony entered in a tux, dressed to walk a red carpet at a moment's notice. But before I could comment, he lowered his sunglasses and gave me a stern look. "Please tell me that's not what you're wearing."

I glanced down at my sweatpants and t-shirt before I rolled my eyes. "No, I just didn't want to get anything on the dress."

At my comment, Tony strolled over to where the dress was hanging over my closet door. Amused, I watched as he examined it closely, searching for any defects. Finally, he stood back and nodded.

"Good pick," he commended. "Now we just need to see it on."

Rolling my eyes yet again, I went over and snatched the dress off the hanger. I heard him shout something along the lines of "hey now- be nice!" as I grabbed my heels and shut the bathroom door behind me. When I came out a minute later, I found him sitting on my bed with a small box in hand.

He looked over at me, and his eyes betrayed surprise. "Well you clean up nice."

I snorted. "Thanks for the genuine compliment."

Tony stood up from the bed and walked toward me. "You're welcome. You're welcome for a lot of things, actually. The dress, the glasses, the boyfriend-"

"What on earth did you have to do with James?" I retorted.

Tony shrugged. "I don't know. I just have a way of making the world go 'round in this place."

I rolled my eyes and walked past him to check the time on my phone. "Sure you do, Tony. Now don't you need to get going? The thing starts in an hour," I reminded him.

He tsked. "Now now, don't get rid of me yet. You haven't let me give you one last present." He held out the box, which I could now see was velvet. Curious, I stepped forward and opened it. Inside laid a strand of pearls.

"It was my mom's," he said casually. My eyes went wide, but he waved a nonchalant hand. "Pepper never likes necklaces- thought they got in the way, or something like that. And you know, I realized something the other day."

Speechless, I looked up at Tony. His eyes were genuine, leaving no room for his usual sarcasm.

"I think that…if I ever had a daughter, which, of course, I didn't, because, well, look at me…I think she'd be something like you." A grin came onto my face, and I picked up the pearl necklace gently to inspect it. Tony stepped back and watched me, his face unreadable.

I looked at him to say thank you, but he cut me off. "Except, well, maybe smarter, cooler, better taste in technology- I mean, who uses Apple these days?" he rambled. I wanted to laugh, but I knew I shouldn't. Sentiment wasn't his forte, but he was certainly trying.

"Goodbye now, Tony," I smiled, waving him toward the door.

Tony put his hands up, willingly exiting my room. "Don't forget to kiss tin man!" he shouted from down the hall.

I laughed, looking down the hall to see if anyone had heard that. And of course there was Steve, looking hilariously confused as per usual. I motioned that he could come into my room, and he followed.

Steve looked at my door, then back at me. "Did he just-?"

I laughed, unclasping the necklace clumsily. "Don't worry about it, Steve. He's just Tony." I managed to clasp the necklace around my neck, then looked back at him.

Steve was staring at the door again with a concerned look. "Worrying is kind of my job," he admitted with a shrug.

After picking up my clutch, I made my way over and accepted his proffered arm. "You should try to focus on other things every once in a while," I suggested as we exited my room. "Like what about tonight? Are you going with Sharon?"

I watched Steve's face cringe as we walked down the hall. "Things are…interesting between us right now. I have the feeling she booked a meeting just to avoid coming."

I snorted. "Wow."

"Yeah, I know," Steve laughed. "I'm really that bad with women. I'll be a one man show forever."

I shook my head, patting him on the arm. "You just have to find the right one, Steve."

Steve looked doubtful, but he gave me a smile. "I hope so. You and Bucky seem to be doing alright."

I blushed. "We're figuring things out, that's for sure. We can't exactly do things normally."

"Trust me, I know how that feels," he replied. We stopped short of the entrance to the main living area. My heart was racing suddenly. I knew James was just beyond that door.

"Hey," Steve said quietly. I looked over at him and was greeted by an encouraging smile. "You'll be just fine."

I nodded shakily, not trusting my voice to give a strong answer. The door opened, and I saw almost all the Avengers gathered together, ready to go and face the crowd. Steve had just let go of my arm when I spotted him.

 _"Eliza."_


	30. Declaration

**Declaration**

DarylDixon'sLover: Enjoy some more sweetness in this chapter!

FanGirlForever19: Yes, the necklace! I thought of that after watching Civil War- in Tony's opening hologram scene, his mother is wearing a pearl necklace.

CannonRebel: Isn't it nice to find a new fanfiction? Welcome! And yes, I think Tony can always use more love than he gets.

Rohirrim Girl 2187: Yes! Look forward to more Tony in this chapter!

Love Fiction 2017: Thank you, and welcome aboard!

SummerMistedDragon: Haha just like how Infinity War is gonna be in two parts, I had to split the gala into two parts. You'll see why!

kuppcake: Thank you!

* * *

 _"Hey," Steve said quietly. I looked over at him and was greeted by an encouraging smile. "You'll be just fine."_

 _I nodded shakily, not trusting my voice to give a strong answer. The door opened, and I saw almost all the Avengers gathered together, ready to go and face the crowd. Steve had just let go of my arm when I spotted him._

 _ **"Eliza."**_

He appeared before me, his blue eyes glittering and a rare wide smile on his face. I hardly noticed the fact that one side of his suit was littered in gleaming army medals. He out shined them all.

"You look beautiful," he whispered.

I blushed, tucking a curl behind my ear. "Better than usual?"

James' smile only grew. He took my hand and placed a gentle kiss on it. "You always look lovely."

I could hear Sam shouting that it was time to get going to the hanger, and I looked around at the other people in the group. I instantly noticed that I was the only person of non-interest in the room, and I felt the pressure mounting. The spotlight was coming soon.

As though he read my thoughts, James squeezed my hand reassuringly. Our eyes met, and I found comfort in his gentle gaze. I'd be okay as long as he was there.

Within minutes, we had made our way downstairs to the hanger. We all boarded the jet, making casual conversation during the short ride. When we arrived, a series of limos were lined up to take us to Stark Tower. James and I made our way into a limo with Steve, Bruce, and Natasha. The ride was calm, but my foot kept a steady rhythm tapping on the car floor. The lights of New York City simply couldn't distract me from my anxiety.

The limos pulled around back to the giant tower, and we were escorted through a wide hallway to the side entrance of the ballroom. We were told to wait by the doors— that our names would be announced one by one, and we would enter when called. I should've known that Tony would make a spectacle, but the theatrics felt a bit much. After all, most Avengers (other than those whose relationships were already public) would be entering alone. And seeing as how he'd left us to wait until dead last, we were clearly the main attraction.

Steve had just disappeared behind the grand doors, and my heart was racing. I'd heard the chatter, seen the flashes of light. Would I even be able to see where I was going? What if I tripped? What if I forgot to smile?

"Breathe," James whispered. I blinked up at him, and he smoothed a gentle thumb over my cheek. My eyes closed, and I forced myself to take in a deep breath. "There you go."

I opened my eyes just before Tony called our names. The doors opened, and we walked through arm in arm. There were shouts, flashes of light, and plenty of questions. But I smiled and ignored it all. James' body next to mine made me feel invincible.

Not a moment too soon, he lead me over to our seats at the table. Steve gave me a thumbs up, and I tossed him one back. After I settled down in my chair, I passed the time by locating people I recognized. Only a select few news outlets were present, one of them being my previous workplace. I caught the eye of a stunned looking Phillip Davidson, and I waved at him. He waved back, and I laughed at his incredulous expression just before Tony got up on stage.

A microphone in hand, the billionaire began to speak, but nothing was heard. He rolled his eyes, and tapped the mic. Suddenly, it came to life, and he said, "I can build an Iron Man suit in a cave, but I still can't find a decent tech guy to get a working mic around here."

The audience laughed, and I saw Tony's ego boost slightly. I couldn't help but reach up and play with the pearls. Flawed he may be, I had to admit that my opinion of him had changed since the last time I was here.

Tony cleared his throat. "Well, I'd say that you guys clean up nice, but we all know that I'm required to say that." The audience chuckled again, and he flashed a smile. "Guilty as charged. But I must say, it is nice to be back, isn't it? Another battle fought, another battle won. And I'm sure all you little kids with your recorders and pens— if you guys still use those— are wondering the truth. Why all this happened, how we came across the fact that this nice little company was actually, well, crazy."

There was a sudden tension in the room, the same kind that had been at his press conference over ten years ago. It was as though everyone was holding their breath all at once. I found my shoulders tensing, but a gentle hand took mine. James' thumb smoothed over my hand, and I felt part of my worry go away.

Tony waited another dramatic second before he said, "Well, it's because we have good aim."

While everyone else laughed, my table groaned at the bad pun. I saw Tony glance over at us and wink. He must have been saving that joke for weeks.

"But in all honesty, not all things need to be known. I'm no poster child for keeping secrets, but I'm pretty sure you guys will figure it out soon enough. After all," he said, motioning in my general direction. "We have a new member in our ranks. Now I know what you're thinking— that girl? She can hardly reach the kitchen counter."

I heard James snort behind me, and I turned around to slap him lightly on the arm.

"But," Tony continued with emphasis. "Not all soldiers wear a uniform. Not all of them are out there fighting in the field. Not all of them are what we think of when someone says the world 'soldier'…but that doesn't make them any less of one. The media will get to know her eventually, but for now, I would like to say thank you to Lizzie. She's helped the Avengers— heck, the world— more than she could ever know."

A genuine smile came onto my lips, and I hardly heard the applause. This close to the stage, I could analyze his posture. I knew he was being honest, that he meant every word. His awkward expression told me so. And even as he suddenly changed the subject, I still smiled through the speech. I laughed at his zingers, his awful jokes, his blatant narcissism. Tony was growing on me every single day.

Finally, Tony cleared his throat one last time. "I know I hardly say this, but enough of me talking. We busted our backs getting this party together before Christmas, so I better see some merriment. Have a good evening, everyone."

We all applauded, and I watched as Tony made his way over to sit at his table. When he reached it, I saw the woman I recognized as Pepper Potts lean over and kiss him on the cheek. He whispered something, and they were suddenly looking at me. Tony pointed at the necklace, and Pepper smiled at me. I waved back shyly, hoping that she approved of the gift. By the look on her face, she did.

Moments later, a jazz band rolled up on stage and began their renditions of Christmas carols. I felt James taking my hand and pulling me up to follow him, and my mind was briefly cast back to when we danced at the castle. But I knew better.

He pulled me through the crowd, ignoring the constant flow of questions that followed us. When we neared the columns on the edge of the room, I starting laughing.

"Still asocial, hm?" I teased.

James' eyes sparkled with mischief. "Yup." He pulled me onward, down the hall and to the elevator. When we stepped on, he pressed the button for the third floor from the top. I was curious, but I chose to not say anything. Getting away from the crowd would be a nice escape no matter where we went.

A minute later, the elevator opened up to an unassuming hallway. I cast James a confused look, but he simply took my hand and led me down the hall. We reached a glass door at the end, and once he opened it, I realized why he'd taken me here.

It was a winter garden overhanging the city. The stone floors sparkled a glossy black, reflecting the stars above. All the walls were made of glass, and railing went around all sides. Plants took up every bit of space, all except for a bench and a small table with chairs in the middle.

"I discovered it a year ago," he told me softly. "It was a good place to go when I was stressed, when I didn't feel like being around people. Even Steve doesn't know about it. I…" he paused suddenly. "I thought you might like it too."

His words sunk in as I wandered over to look out at the view. I was entranced, staring down at the energetic city below me, but hearing none of the chaos. I'd been staring out the window in silence for a full minute before I spun around randomly.

"You used to terrify me," I admitted. James quirked an eyebrow, but I continued. "Like, you just stood there off to the side, and you had this do-not-approach-me thing about you, and it was really hard to go up to you and ask to interview you."

A small smile came onto his face as he stepped forward. "I'm not sure how to take that, but okay."

I shook my head. "No, no, I don't mean it in a bad way, more of an introspective look-at-the-past sort of way, you know?" James looked amused as I rambled, but the words just kept coming. "And I think once I got to know you more, you weren't so bad-"

"Oh thank goodness for that," he cut in.

"Shut up," I laughed. "I'm trying to be serious. You just seemed so intimidating, but now…" I trailed off, gazing up into his eyes. "Now you're not. And I'm not sure when that happened."

James simply shrugged. "Over time, I suppose. The past few months have put us through a lot."

"Yeah," I sighed in agreement. "I'm glad it's all over now."

"Well," he started, taking another step forward. "Not everything is over."

I felt a sudden boldness overcome me. "Oh really? Do correct me, then."

A bright smile bloomed on his face. "From my perspective, things are just starting, not ending." It was then I realized how near he was. My heels put me closer to his face than I'd ever been before.

Any witty response I'd had planned immediately left my brain. I couldn't think straight, but I knew what was about to happen. It suddenly made sense as to why he brought me here, to this secret place he'd discovered a year ago. No one could interrupt us here.

Oddly enough, this thought comforted me. We were out of the spotlight, away from all the noise and chaos and busyness of our usual lives. It was just us, free to be ourselves around each other without the boundaries of having to act natural in an office or be casual around the rest of the Avengers. We were finally alone, allowed to do as we wished.

His blue eyes were gazing into mine, but this time, he didn't ask for permission silently.

"May I?" he requested.

"Yes," I breathed.

His hand came up and cupped my face, and our eyes closed simultaneously. Then our lips met.

 _Finally._

I felt it all at once. One of his hands rested on my cheek, then traveled to my hair. The other wound around my back, holding me steady on my high heels. His warmth surrounded me, and his intoxicating scent filled my nose. His taste was addictive, and I immediately regretted not kissing him before now.

We broke apart, breathless and grinning like idiots. I was giggling, and he looked ready to pull me back in for another kiss. But before he could-

"IT'S ABOUT TIME," Tony's voice shouted over the intercom. "I HAD TEN MINUTES BEFORE I HAD TO PAY SAM _AND_ CLINT ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS EACH! DO YOU REALIZE HOW LONG IT WOULD BE BEFORE WE HEARD THE END OF IT? AGES! AND IT TOOK YOU TWO THIS LONG-"

I burst out laughing, holding onto James for support. I opened my mouth to retort, but James just put a hand under my chin and pulled me forward.

And we stood there, our cares far far away as we kissed under the stars.

Oh if only we'd known what was to come…but it was only the beginning. How could we?

* * *

 **Why yes, that is foreshadowing! Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story- the support you guys have shown has been just incredible. A sequel is in the works, but I'm taking the next two weeks off just to make you guys wait a bit (and to give me a brief writing break). Make sure to hit the "follow author" button so that you get notified when chapter one of Resurrection gets uploaded! See you then!**


	31. Update

Hello! Just a reminder that the sequel, titled Resurrection, is out!


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